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Shaz

2025 Daniher's Drive

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I'm fundraising for Daniher's Drive!

Hi there

I'm taking part in the Daniher’s Drive, trying to fundraise to help FightMND in its mission to find effective treatments and one day a cure for MND. To accomplish this, I am part of a team and we would truly appreciate it if you could help by fundraising alongside us or donating to our page!

I am excited to be involved in 2025 as we travel through regional Victoria to raise awareness and much needed funds to continue the fight against MND.

I would appreciate your support in the form of a donation if you are able. It only takes a minute and any money you can give will go a long way to helping us reach our target and continue funding valuable MND research.

Thank you, I really appreciate your support!

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Liz’s turn to share ….

Monday 30th Jun

MND…

An illness I knew very little about before Dad one day said in our family chat “it could be MND”… we all said “no way Dad”… while I sent back a message of encouragement, I began furiously googling MND… reading the symptoms, the different forms it develops in, and everything that was to come…

My heart sank.

Not my big Dad. My strong, fit, gruff, big old Aussie Dad. No way.

When the diagnosis was confirmed, I cried a lot. Big, ugly, snotty, body shaking sobbing.

Panic mode set in of how I could support my beautiful parents who showed me how marriage was supposed to be… 

Looking back, I didn’t do that well. I was selfish. I could have done more. I visited more, stayed longer… so many things I look back on and I’m guilty about.

Before Dad’s voice started to go, he sat me down on the bed, and spoke to me quietly. Told me all the things he needed to tell me. And I ugly sobbed the whole way through that too.

I told him of my guilt. He put a stop to that. No way was I to feel guilty about raising my kids and living my life. Loving my husband, and getting on with it.

In that chat, he said to me, “don’t wait to do things, don’t leave it until it’s too late, like it is for Mum and I now. We had just started enjoying our lives, and now I’m sick. Please don’t wait. Live your life.”

So that’s what I’m doing. I’m living my life, I’m saying yes to things, to experiences, I’m raising my kids, I’m working hard, but I’m still doing my best to say yes.


What I thought I’d talk about in my post has changed… it was going to be how it affected me. Instead it’s going to be memories… those that I shared with Dad, just before he turned 60 in 2022. Pretty sure I made him cry big ugly tears, same as I am doing now after reading the message I sent him as I watched MND take him away from us… 

I’m sorry if I make you cry, but I hope it gives you some insight into how I felt about my big Dad. 


To my darling Dad.

I know I’m going to make you cry, so I’m sorry for that.

But I’ve got all these memories in my head and I don’t want you to leave this earth without knowing the memories I’ll treasure forever.

Some are with you, some are with Mum, some are with Nanny & Pa, but they’re all memories that make me smile. They’re the memories I’ll cherish, and tell my kids and my grandkids about when they’re older and want to know more about their Pa.


My earliest memory is with Mum. Planting the tree at preschool by the mens toilets, that, now, every man in Ariah Park has peed on!

In my head, it was cold, grey and raining. I remember running out with Mum, planting the tree and running back to the cover of preschool. That’s my earliest memory. 


Let’s start with Nanny and Pa. Nanny’s roses, the side bedrooms off their room, full of treasures, playing hide and seek with Felicity, baths in that beautiful green bath, Nanny’s beautiful clothes, her head scarves, the day Felicity jumped out of the plane, I can close my eyes and see them all. They make me so happy. I have no memories of Nanny being sick. Whether the adults shielded us from that as kids, or whether I just don’t remember it, I don’t remember her being sick. She was always just Nanny.


Then there’s the Sunday lunches and the fairy dell. So many days where we went for a beautiful lunch with Nanny and Pa, after we’d been down to that fairy dell and left our Wishlist. We all went for a rest and never ever noticed the cars leaving to duck into town to get our treats.


It was truly magical, and such an amazing childhood memory that so many of Nanny and Pa’s grand babies hold onto.


Pa… The shearing shed, watching him potter as he got older and slower. Counting out sheep at the end of each run and buggering off to take them away when it wasn’t needed just yet. Bloody Adam!! 


Sissy… oh I loved Sissy. She was such a sweet dog, and such a good worker.

And fat old Sally, but she didn’t work, she just loved us. 


Back to the shed… Seeing you and Pa collapse into piles of wool with a cup of tea and a sandwich, even for just 5 minutes.

Pa’s shandy at lunch when we were at Maxine’s, and his happy smile.

His hugs still bring out all of those memories.


The shearing shed is where most of my memories lie. That smell will forever take me back to listening to talkback radio on AM, singing to old classics and listening to banter between the shearer’s, all the while my hamstrings and thighs BURNING from overuse on day 2 and 3, then it got better, once they wore in!


Seeing Merino’s fly through the pens because the stupid assholes wouldn’t run! Giggling as I listened to you swear at them like they’d listen!


The end of the day was my favourite. All the pens were ready, under the shed was full, the shorn ones had been taken away, and the shed was clean.

Shearer’s had gone home, and there was just some pressing and tidying up to do.

You and Pa working quietly, pressing wool, counting the days runs out, writing cheques on fridays.


Then the drive home. Presses were turned off, everything was done. Shutting the shed door, Beer in hand, music on, windows down, and just us. I loved that so much.


I feel like my love of farming came from those days with you in the sheds, of trying my best to help in the tractor when you needed paddocks worked up, I was SO proud of myself that you asked me to come with you. Bloody fencing! I hated doing it, but I love the memories of it now. Walking through paddocks picking Bathurst burrs out, bloody paddy melons!


Then the rain. Petrichor. As that rain started to hit the ground, your body relaxed. Sitting on the back verandah of the new house, watching the storms roll in over the paddock, surrounded by your kids and sitting with Mum. It’s an image that’s permanently etched in my head. It’s probably my favourite memory.


Basketball and tennis nights, there’s too many memories to count. Lots of chip packets and cans of coke afterwards. Eventually, me working in the pub in the kitchen.


There was always praise for our sports, sometimes in a round a bout way, but I find myself doing the same thing with my kids now. 


Footy… I remember getting my nice clothes on to go to West Wyalong with you when you coached them, watching you play footy, I just wanted to be like you. 

I remember being so bloody frustrated that I wasn’t allowed to play AFL because I’d already grown boobs! Netball was boring me, and I just wanted to be out there playing footy.


Then we went to Union. Cold Temora nights, running up and down paddocks, being shit scared of being tackled as a 14 year old girl, but you were always there to pick us up, dust Cass and I off, and push us to keep going.

When I hurt my knee in Albury, most of that is a blur… I can’t imagine why 😳😂 but I do remember thinking it would be ok because you were there to get me home.


Oh that week you went away to fight fires. When you can home and put your suit on. Oh the smell! It was so potent!!


I can only imagine, now as an adult, how frightening that must have been for Mum to send you away and for you to do it. I know you did it because you just did. So many things you did, because that’s just you. Always taking care of others.


When I left Michael, the first time. The hug I was enveloped in when I was crying, hating my life and unsure how to move on. Even though I went back for a little bit longer, I knew I still had you and Mum. I knew I’d be ok.

It took a bloody long time but I am ok now.


All of our weddings… maybe not my first one so much. My second one could have been better too but having you walk me down that aisle to Jono… the smiles on yours and Mums faces. I love your smiles, both of you.


I wish now I’d have danced with you at my second wedding, but that wasn’t planned real well. Things you’d change now but can’t!

But seeing you dance with Cass & Kathleen… it’s such a beautiful memory. The proud Dad at all of our weddings, especially seeing as we’re the only bloody grandchildren Pa has seen marry!


When I drove home with Henry… god that was a long drive, but it felt so good to be back home. To see you and Mum fuss over Henry. It’s a bit more blurry… 16 years ago almost!

When I was in labour with Faith. It wasn’t a hesitation to drive to Orange to sit with me while I laboured with Faith for that entire day.


Your hand rubbing my arm while I had contractions. You heading down to the entrance to make sure Jono got to me. 


Seeing the look on your face when you met Faith. Just having you, Mum and Kathleen there was something I’ll be forever grateful for.

Then meeting my little chunky, toupee wearing Lincoln! 


There’s so many Dad, that come to me at different times. And before this stupid disease takes you from our lives, I wanted you to know that there’s so many happy memories in my childhood, and as an adult.

I truly am blessed to have been born into the family that I was born into. And I hope that you always know that I’m forever grateful for all the love and support you and Mum have given me over the years. I love you so much xoxo


Thanks, 

Liz Austin.

Cass’ post…

Sunday 1st Jun
When I started writing this for Mum, I had lots of dates, information etc. It seemed easier to do it that way, but that’s not the point. What it was like for me is the point and to that end, I have written, rewritten and edited this I don’t even know how many times to make it make sense. Please bear with me.

Where to start… Back at the beginning I guess…Back in early September 2020, I was on the phone to Mum and she was in tears, near to hysterical because she thought she was going to lose Dad. He’d had a chest or respiratory infection and his breathing had gotten really bad. He’d had a couple of tests, but they had been stuffed around on a couple and so far, the results weren’t really showing anything. 
You see, there’s a theory that that’s how MND starts for some. After diagnosis, some MND sufferers report that they have a flu or a chest/respiratory infection and all of a sudden, these symptoms come on, almost like the infection has somehow triggered the MND. But we weren’t to know that yet…

A week later, Mum and Dad called us kids to let us know that a diagnosis was likely headed in the direction of ALS/MND. Cue the messages to each other, the Googling and the “Well f*ck” moments for us kids. We started to process (sort of), while firmly remaining in denial, given it still wasn’t 100% confirmed (there was still the cerebrospinal fluid test to be finalised) and it was one of those things that don’t happen to you, if you know what I mean? It was during COVID restrictions, so I didn’t even know if I’d be able to cross the border, so felt exceptionally useless…

About 10 days after that came the call confirming MND. I was pretty calm (from what I remember) during the call. My head said “If Neale Daniher’s had almost 10 years, we’re good” while my heart sank. 2.5 years for the majority of those diagnosed, about 5% get 10+ years. Pretty shitty odds (and the cause of an irrational resentment of Neale Daniher and his family that I have since dealt with and accepted as part of my grieving process). Then I had to break the news to my kids and I tell you right now, I hope I never again have to be the cause of that heart-broken look on my children’s faces.

From then on, it was a matter of all us kids trying to get home whenever we could, messaging as much as we could and when Leenie organised the Frameo photo frame, sending through photos whenever we could. 
In June of 2021, Terry Walker (God bless him, his family, his ancestors and anyone who ever comes into contact with him) organised a fundraiser for Dad after Dad was unable to keep working. The love and support from the people involved was something I will never be able to put into words. We couldn’t be more grateful that Mum and Dad are a part of such a wonderful supportive community, because Mum would never have been able to afford the things that made Dad’s last 12 months as comfortable as she was able to:
The car
• The car. While Dad was still able to get around a little, he loved coming down to the street when we went out to do jobs. It was almost as bad as taking him down the street when he could walk around, because he’d still get stuck in 20 minute conversations with every person he saw, just in the car. The Subaru’s doors opened wider than any of the other cars we tried and the seat height was good for Dad when it came to sitting down, but standing up again and both the boot and back seats were good sizes for the walker.
• The oxygen machine, then the C-PAP machine so Dad was able to breathe comfortably while in his chair, or in his bed.
• The bed so he could get in and out when he was still capable and when he wasn’t, so Mum could get him in and out of bed. It also allowed for him to adjust and sleep comfortably and in a position where he didn’t feel like he was suffocating. Then, once he was essentially bed bound, it allowed us to sit him up and change positions through the day so he could watch his sport, spend time with visitors, use his laptop etc. He also didn’t have to worry about whether or not Mum was comfortable, because she could adjust her side separately. Before he declined to where he was sleeping more than not, at night, I used to sit on one of the lawn chairs on Dad’s side of the bed, with my feet up on the edge of the bed, because he used to rest his hand on my ankle and use it to stretch out his hands when they were sore. 

While we’re on the subject of amazing people, I HAVE to mention Jenny from MND NSW, affectionally known to Mum and Dad as “Our Bulldog”. Whenever something was needed, Jenny was on the phone to NDIS and sorting things out with a tenacity that every single person with a disability deserves in their case worker. She was instrumental in sorting the motorised wheelchair that made it so Dad was still able to get around, while he was still capable and the lifter that we needed to get him in and out of bed once he was no longer able to even lift his own head. 

In July of 2021, Dad worried about how he would be remembered, if at all. I sent out a message and asked for some memories, photos, stories etc. I got lots back and put it together in a slideshow for Dad, which I warned him not to watch until it was just him and Mum. I hope it helped…

Some of the conversations we had during these times would seem morbid to some people, but because Dad’s chest and hands were the first things to go, we had the conversations, both verbal and written, while we could. What music, flowers etc do you want at the funeral? Who do you want as pallbearers? How many speakers do you want? What do you want to be buried in? (For those wondering, the long sleeved TradeMutt in the Fractal pattern, jean shorts and his Croc thongs that we were NOT allowed to wash or clean, so he could “Go to Glory” as Mum would say, with the dirt and pollen from Westella with him).

While I was home, the only focus was to spend whatever time I could with Dad and take some of the load off Mum while I was there. I set my alarm every morning once I worked out what time Mum and Dad woke up, got up and made coffee or tea, started on getting Dad some breakfast and sat with him while Mum went and had her shower. As things went downhill, this also included doing Dad’s medications. (Also, hats off to nurses. How you are not COVERED in scratches and cuts from having to open those bloody little glass morphines vials, I will never know. Little bastards…) More than once, I told Dad that when he’d had enough, he just needed to give me a sign and I would accidentally double his dosage of morphine. “I was tired, it was distressing, I accidentally double dosed him instead of using saline in the 2nd syringe” would have been the story. 
Dad unfortunately had to forego most of what remained of his dignity as time went on while us kids were home, so we could help Mum get him to and from the bed to the shower/bathroom. While I’m sure it was hard for him, as a father and a stubbornly independent man, his love and concern about Mum overrode all of that, so he let us help him, to help her. 

Mum and I were messaging the night Dad passed. My phone kept pinging with notifications from the camera, so I messaged Mum to see if they were ok. She said no and she couldn’t work out what was wrong, but Dad couldn’t settle. She told me under no circumstances was I to get on a plane (I had decided to book a flight the next day at work anyway, but she didn’t need to know that). We joked about there being nothing left to do but get a pillow... Despite working with patients who pass all the time, when it’s someone you love and you’re exhausted, “terminal agitation” just looks like discomfort. Mum still feels guilty about not recognising it for what it was, going to sleep next to Dad and not knowing that he was gone because the C-PAP just kept going. But I don’t think Dad would have been able to let go if he was anywhere else but laying next to Mum. He felt safe and loved and his body finally let him be at peace.

I still remember walking into the house the next morning, seeing the empty bed and having it hit me that I would never see my Dad again. It took me a long time before I could even sit on Dad’s side of the bed.
The funeral was unbelievable. We knew Dad was popular, but at a rough estimate, there were about 700 people with us that day. You couldn’t even move at the wake down at the Bowling Club. I remember looking around at all the bloody Resch’s and thinking how beautiful and sad it was that Dad was SO loved and SO gone… There are still times when I look around and think, “Damn, Dad would love this” and have to take a deep breath and remind myself that I’m sure he is still loving it from wherever he is.

8 weeks later before we drove back to QLD after Christmas, my son and daughter-in-law came round and told us they were having baby. I was so overwhelmingly happy, with a small very sad moment because Dad LOVED babies and he missed knowing about his first great grandbabies by such a short window. I’m certain Dad and Jennifer (Ivy’s other grandma) are taking care of her and spoiling her absolutely rotten, while they help watch over Kinsley as well.

Dad was by no means a perfect human being, as anyone who really knew him could attest to. There were a number of things I needed to work through after his passing, some I didn’t even realise were a thing until a random moment when it would make itself known. But he was at every single school event, every sporting achievement, any time we needed him and sometimes when we didn’t. He loved fiercely, loyally and even when it was thrown back in his face or not appreciated, that didn’t stop him from still trying. He worked hard to look after us, make his parents proud and build a good life for us. He was a gruff and angry man at times, but there were a lot of things that hurt him deeply, not that he would let the person who hurt him know that. 

The biggest takeaway from all of this I have is how amazing my mother is. Like, I knew it, but didn’t really know it, if you get me? She was caring for Dad while she was still working 2 jobs, then as dad went downhill, she took leave from both jobs and became his full time carer, with no help (except for the gardens, thank you Uncle Chris!) because that’s what Dad wanted. It didn’t matter how hard it was for her, it didn’t matter how much it broke her heart to see Dad’s decline, his frustration, his pain. She did it right through to the end and she ensured Dad had as much, love, comfort and dignity as she could. When things got too much for her, Mum would wait until Dad went to sleep, head outside with a coffee, call one of us kids and just cry, vent, then cry some more.

I planned to fly down less than a week after Dad passed. Even though I know that I told Dad I loved him repeatedly and every time I was home or FaceTimed, I still haven’t quite forgiven myself for putting that trip off. Maybe I will one day, or maybe I’ll just accept that and live with it. 

Something I have never told Mum, or anyone else for that matter, is that the video of Mum coming in to wake Dad the next morning is still saved on my phone… I don’t know why it downloaded itself, but I have never been able to bring myself to watch it, nor delete it. I don’t think I ever will.

To summarise all of the above into a single sentence:
• MND is a bitch, I miss my Dad, I’m pretty sure my Mum is a superhuman, grief is not linear or progressive and tell your loved ones that you love them while you have the chance.

The difficult years....

Saturday 17th May

In those last two years a lot of machinery came into our lives. The sleep apnoea machine because with MND the diaphragm gets lazy so the machine had to pump air IN and OUT.  Our bedroom and bathroom had be completely rejigged thanks to my beautiful friends and the NDIS,  to accommodate the lifter and electric wheelchairs. The waterbed we had our whole marriage had to go and an electric bed came in so Crack could move  a little easier. We invested in a motion camera so he could wave if he needed us, a doorbell above his head and google home for him to listen and sleep to his music. We had to buy an electric armchair but even that needed adjustments as lovey was so tall.  That was fixed thanks to Ted and some 100 year old timber.  The electric wheelchair gave Crack back his freedom for a while which was a blessing… I’ve forgotten the name we gave her.  And then there was the people.. family, friends, OTs, Physios, the community and palliative nurses, Dr Kurtzer, our MNDNSW bulldog Jenny and  Kacey with her needling.. all doing their best to make Crack’s life as comfortable as they could.  One of his hardest days was having to tell Ted and Dom he wouldn’t be able to work anymore.  This was just after Ariah Park held the fundraiser for him and soley because of that event, I was able to take leave from preschool and Narrabura and stay home for the last 9 months of Crack’s life and care for him.  Funny when you think back.. it was his mum Lola that talked me into doing my enrolled nurses training.  Without that I wouldn’t have had the tools to nurse her baby boy.

If I'm brutally honest our last hours together were awful... no fairytale movie ending.  We were both testy and cross.  I was exhausted and he was uncomfortable and looking back now i know why but that will never assuage the guilt of our last interaction not being a loving touching goodbye.  I fell asleep and his heart stopped.  I can never get those moments back and I live with that but also knowing that he would tell me not to be stupid.  That I had done enough and that he loved me more than anything.  In the end he was ready to go.  Crack hated that he couldn’t do anything for himself not feed himself or even roll over in bed. He hated that he was reliant on everyone else but he was always grateful.  He hated that he couldn’t eat anything but pureed food, that he couldn’t have a beer with his mates or pick up his grandkids, that he couldn’t even speak in the end and especially that he couldn’t put his arms around me or his precious children.  It was just time.

Over the next few months I’m asking the kids to join me and give you some of their thoughts. I’m sorry this one is long but while we’re on this journey we might as well share the love… and the pain. Thanks for hearing me out xx

Meet Dom.. the bearer of the worst news 😞

Thursday 17th Apr
In October 2020 we met Dom, a neurologist who specialises in MND research. As he drew a diagram and explained how MND works.. Crack was so calm and accepting, finishing the visit by asking Dom all about his family and farm, even wanting a photo. If you knew my boy that was his way 💙Crack had always known what the diagnosis would be, it was me that was in denial. MND happened to other people. It happened to Neale Daniher. It couldn’t possibly touch us. We came home that day and sat out on the back verandah and called the kids then Crack’s siblings. The second worst day of our lives.. then life went on….. The first real hiccup MND threw at Crack was that his hands stopped co-operating, his fine motor was going. That’s really common in MND sufferers. For Crack, it made it impossible for him to get his precious work boots on. Foot in, yes but there was NO WAY he could get his finger in that little loop to pull them up! Off Crack went with his boots in hand to Cleverdons where they invented a metal rod with a big triangle on the top that he could fit his fingers and a hook on the other end so he could hook the loop and woohoo his boots were on! The next little hurdle was zipping up his jackets… again his fingers weren’t able to cooperate to hold the toggle and zip up. I went online and found some key ring loops that we hooked on the toggle. Job done and life continued on for a bit. To be continued 🩵💙

Way back when.. before all the bad things happened 🥰

Friday 28th Mar
For those of you who mightn’t know Crack and I very well.. I thought I’d tell you a little about us. We were married for 39 years and have 5 children, Cass, Liz, Brent, Kat and Kayne. They’re all married now and we have 8 grandchildren (so far🥰) and 1 great grandchild. Crack was one of 7 children and our extended family is HUGE!!! And Crack loved every one of the crazy buggers 😂🥰

Story number 1

Monday 10th Mar
Hi poppets. 
It’s my turn to be brave and get into raising some funds for MND research so one day hopefully we stop losing beautiful people like my darling man Crack. 😢 In October, Wendy McCrone, Jacinta Ives and I are participating in the MND drive and are hoping to raise some money in the months before. I thought maybe over the next little while I could share some of our journey along the very crappy MND road.  So if you happen to have a spare couple of dollars to sponsor us, it would be greatly appreciated and we will be holding a few fundraisers as well. More information as we get ourselves together. Can I tell you that in the one meeting and following phone call.., I have not laughed so much in the last 2 years and 28 months 🥰

Thank you to my Sponsors

$515

Elders Ariah Park Elders Ariah Pae

On behalf of our Branch Elders Ariah Park and staff personally, we would like to raise awareness of this cruel disease love to you Shaz and Team . Elders Ariah Park x

$315

Southern Silage Contractors

We love you Shaz xx

$312.90

Kace Quade

You’re amazing Shaz! Crack was a great man, missed so dearly x

$309.30

Liam Martin

$211

Number 2 Child :)

We’ve got our hand on your shoulder Mumma Love you xx love from Jono, Liz, Henry, Faith & Lincoln.

$211

Alice French

$208.60

Jack & Karin Walker

Well done girls have a great time

$208.60

Railway Hotel Temora

Well done ladies great cause! We just wanted to reach out and say a heartfelt thank you for the incredible work you're doing to raise funds and awareness for Motor Neurone Disease. Your commitment to this cause makes a real difference—not only in helping to fund vital research, but also in offering hope and support to those affected by MND and their loved ones. Fundraising efforts like yours are so important in driving progress toward better treatments and, one day, a cure. Wishing you continued strength and success in your efforts.

$158.25

Bec, Jock And The Boys

All the best Shaz. We will be cheering you on. A very worthy cause. 💕

$158.25

Sondi Ryall

You’ve got this Shaz, so proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone. Oh the fun you will have 💙💙

$158.25

Kathleen & Garrett Doig

Proud of you Mumma Bear! 💙

$158.25

Donna Gordon

Keep up the great work

$158.25

Chloe And Barn Tidd

What a team! Go get the beast girls 🙌🏻💙

$158.25

Romally Gowdy

$158.25

Barry & Karen Bryant

Sending loads of love to you Shaz. Baz & Kaz xx

$158.25

Susan Haddrill

$158.25

Warren Birch

$150

Zac And Sheree Ballard

Great work Shaz! ❤️

$124.58

Bronte Brown

$112.30

Gillian Bett

Shaz, I’m not on FB much, but am grateful to have come across your daughter’s heartfelt sharing. I’ve always loved you from afar and you’re a hero in my eyes too. I’m sorry for then and the on going pain of loss now.

$106.12

Deb Roberts

Proud of you Shaz. You got this 🙌

$106.12

Abbey Doyle

$106.12

Michelle & Geoff Bush

$106.12

Briony Bird

So much love to you Shaz! You are amazing and Crack would be so proud of you xx

$106.12

Cassandra Irvine

Xxoo

$106.12

Kim Webster

Go you!! Mwah Cous.

$106.12

Jonathon Mott

$103.72

Kate Lynch

You have all our love right behind you. Uncle Ian would be extremely proud of you 🥰❤️❤️❤️ Lots of love Kate, Rob and kids xoxo

$103.72

Dave & Carmel Daley

$100

Andrea Austin

So proud of you. You are amazing and we Love you. Look forward to watch your journey. You have got this.

$100

Ben Sal Annie Maddie Jazzie And Billy

$100

Anonymous

Got gettam Shaz love your work well done 😘💪

$100

Kaye Hamilton

$100

Vanessa Heinjus

Well done Shaz, a great cause ❤️

$100

Alix Thornhill

$100

Mitch Little Academy

🙏

$80.25

Maddy Keane

All the best on your journey Shaz! Lots of love! 💙

$80.25

Michael New

$80.25

George & Lulu Patsalides

$54.12

Danielle Reardon

Have the best time

$54.12

Tricia Catlin

💖💖

$54.12

Maree Pinney

Good luck & best wishes Sharon . Happy to travel this journey with you

$54.12

Charlie Eyles

$54.12

Brad & Scott

Love you and uncle Ian so much Aunty Shazz, have always been proud of having an aunty like you and this is just another in the long list of reasons x

$54.12

Tracey, Charlie, Mae & Sam Eyles

$54.12

Anonymous

$54.12

Anthony & Ros Leary

Well done Shaz and team ❤️

$54.12

Kerrie Kennedy

$54.12

Erinna Martin

$54.12

Jamie & Clara-jane Amarant

We love you Shaz x you are stronger than you think...so proud of you as would Crack be love from Clara, Jamie Children ❤️

$54.12

Anonymous

🕊🕊🕊

$54.12

Janet Murphy

Much love

$54.12

Kaylene Farthing (wynd)

Hi Shaz, I am sorry for the loss of your beautiful husband. I have lost 2 cousins to MND, one being a well respected Cardiologist who was working with the University of Newcastle to help find a cure. Unfortunately the disease found her before she could accomplish her mission. Thank you for all that you are doing and wish you all the best.

$54.12

Caro & Ged Obrien

$54.12

Debbie Worland

Here’s hoping we can bust the beast together

$54.12

Jeff & Fiona

$50

Vlade

We love you Lola Shaz! We’re always here for you ❤️

$43.60

Anonymous

$39.35

Steve Mccaig

$33.15

Lee Bell

Sending higs

$33.15

Marg Oglesby

You've got this Shaz and we are all behind you!! ❤️

$22.58

Lucy

Good job shaz ❤️❤️

$22.58

Cowan’s

Love the Cowans

$22.58

Pam Milnes

So much love to you Shaz 💕

$22.58

Erin Stacey

$11.65

Raffy Edis

$11.65

Elle Deane

You're an inspiration to fellow strong women ❤️

Our Team