Justin Yerbury has been remembered as a man who lived like time was running out, even before he was diagnosed with motor neurone disease.
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"He and Rachel and the girls lived life like time was running out, a motto I'm sure was borne out of seeing his family succumb to this cruel disease over decades," friend and colleague Professor Kara Perrow said at his funeral.
"Whether it was a spontaneous midnight swim... or a 4am hike up Mount Ousley to watch the sunrise at Brokers Nose, or just one more glass of red together before nights' end, Justin would always find a way to squeeze every last drop of life out of each and every moment."
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Hundreds of mourners gathered at the University of Wollongong to farewell the much-loved molecular biologist, who died aged 49 at his family home in Farmborough Heights on July 28 after dedicating decades to finding a cure for MND.
His wife, high school sweetheart Dr Rachel Yerbury, led the tributes wearing the top she wore on the night they met in 1991, saying her husband had been "a beacon of hope for the family, but he just didn't have enough time".
"Justin was the love of my life, my soulmate, my lover and my best friend," she said.
"We believed as long as we had each other nothing else mattered."
Justin was born in Wollongong Hospital in 1974 and grew up in Oak Flats.
He went from being a promising Illawarra Hawks basketball player with little interest in science to one of the world's leading authorities on MND, which has killed multiple members of his family over generations.
Diagnosed himself in 2016, he continued his work as his own condition deteriorated and was celebrated for making significant breakthroughs in understanding the causes of the disease.
Amid his remarkable personal and professional story, Dr Yerbury said her husband's greatest achievement was parenting his daughters, Talia and Maddison, who also delivered tributes at the funeral.
"My heart has broken a million times over the past seven years, but I wouldn't take back a second we had together," Maddy said through tears.
"I can't put into words the wonder that he wove into my life. He always had the ability to make the most ordinary things so wonderful."
Mourners also heard how Justin was the life of every party, playing guitar, sitting by the fire, singing songs, dancing, making cocktails and telling stories.
His sense of humour was apparent in a video at the end of the funeral, depicting his family's last big adventure to Botswana in 2017, which showed them singing and dancing to a montage of Toto's Africa.
"Justin was good at everything he did, he was a magnificent husband and parent, a great mate and friend, amazing scientist, he was skilled at building, cooking, writing, music, basketball, mountain biking - you name it he did it well," Dr Yerbury said.
"He heroically balanced parenting, working and study while juggling his own grief at the multiple family losses. The most painful of these were his mother in 2001, aged 52, and his baby sister Sarah in 2008, aged 26."
"When Justin was diagnosed with MND on the week of his 42nd birthday, I was overcome with hopelessness and despair... But he decided to live as long as he possibly could. And he did."
"He was the truest warrior I have ever known. He wanted to be my hero, and he was."
Heroism - and humour - were recurring themes at the funeral.
For instance, sister Naomi Cocksedge remembered how she always tried to keep up with her "superhero" older brother, as a child, copying him when he wore a cape, received a trophy, and even trying to wee standing up to be like her big brother.
'Australian science has lost a shining star'
Colleague and friend Professor Darryn Saunders spoke "what he discovered about the monster that stalked him" to lead science towards a cure for MND.
"Australian science has lost a shining star, one of its brightest minds and by far its biggest heart," he said.
"As almost every muscle in his body failed him, what remained was that giant heart. He was courageous to the end."
Prof Perrow said the best word to describe her friend was selfless.
"He was always so giving of his time, even though it was the one thing he had least of to give," she said.
"Justin taught us the art of living in the moment."
A powerful voice until the end
Five years ago, Justin underwent a trachesotomy and laryngectomy, and started using a life-saving mechanical ventilator to breathe for him so he could continue his research.
Without the operation, which also took his speech, he would have had only months to live.
Using a tablet-mounted device that tracks his eye gaze and allowed him to speak via his own computer-generated voice, he published several dozen research papers, advocated for people with disabilities and was the brains behind his world-leading UOW lab.
He was awarded a Member of the Order of Australia in 2020 for his work, and in 2022 received the prestigious Eureka Prize for science for his breakthroughs in understanding MND.
He also wrote a memoir using eye-tracking software, which was published only weeks before his death.
The last pages of the book, Fighting Fate, tell of how he held on as his body failed.
"If I can hold on, I would like to be around to see MND beaten into submission. I would really like to see the dark corners on MND completely lit up so there is no more mystery," he said.
He also wrote of all the small moments which made up his life.
"And I did live in the years that I could," he wrote.
"I experienced joy but also sadness. I felt jubilation but also pain. I made mistakes but I learned from them. I loved and was loved. And as I step into the twilight of my life, I have one thing left to leave you with and that is hope."
At the end of the funeral, Justin's voice rang through the hall, singing "I owned every second that this world could give", as pallbearers carried the coffin out.
A duet - him on guitar and singing a song called I Lived with Maddy recorded before his muscles stopped being able to play - signifying the enduring mark he left on the world.