By MIKAILA HANMAN SIEGERSMA
Jess Hanman Siegersma
Born: 25-11-1991
Died: 5-4-2016
WE’RE going to start this off with a few words of wisdom from Jess himself, “Coffees are like scissors, you should not run with them.”
Maybe one more, just so you know who you’re dealing with, “There’s something oddly romantic about coin laundries.”
Jess liked the little romance in things; the quirks, the funnies, the finesse, the craft beer, the well-organised room, the perfectly cooked fetta-stuffed field mushrooms, the good soccer pitch, clean grammar, slick humour.
Because of these things and more, it’s hard to think about farewells or goodbyes. But Jess was great with words, so we may as well give it a red-hot go. He started us off, after all.
Jess Hanman Siegersma grew up in the Yarra Valley and attended Little Yarra Steiner School (LYSS). He was a brother to Sage and me, a son to Anita and Stephen.
He started playing the cello as a kid, and I’m told by his housemates, still pulled it out in his share houses when he needed the soothing tones.
He was a friend and brother to many – I’m sure those who played alongside him in the various soccer teams he was a part of, could vouch for that. Jess started off playing for Healesville as a young tacker, switching over to Yarra Valley later on.
His number was 11, and he was a quick-footed midfielder, a keen goal-scorer. He was also quick and diligent in his work. He was a hospo man, beginning at the Bodhi Tree Cafe in Healesville, knee-deep in pizzas and smooth service, and wound up at East of Everything in Camberwell, also in the kitchen.
After finishing his Year 12 project at LYSS, he moved into the Blake Manor with dear friends, getting up to all sorts of mischief. He was the kind of person who was gifted in many ways – and it was this creativity that led him to RMIT to do the Professional Writing and Editing course.
In the years between, he travelled Europe, he loved, he scored hat-tricks, drove his sexy Golf GTI around (he liked the revvs), attended festivals, danced his bobbing dance moves which were dorky and uber cool, was a brilliant listener, loudly engaged in car karaoke to hip/hop and RnB from the 2000s, and even when he was living in Richmond, would drive back to Yarra Valley’s training, come rain hail or shine.
The celebration of his life was a reflection of a FaceyB status he once posted, “I breathe every breath as my first and live every day as my last”. It was held in the barn at the Stones Winery in the Yarra Valley, surrounded by oak trees in autumn light, with over 600 people in attendance.
I think in times like these we look for consolation in something, for direction, for answers. Jess, again, has some advice for us.
This excerpt comes from a piece of writing about dealing with the grief of parents separating, which I think can be a little gold thing for us, a treasured reminder as we send off our much-loved companion, brother and son.
“In the moment, it feels like IKEA has forgotten to give you the necessary Allen key and there’s no hope of putting your life back together.
“But then, with a little perseverance, and a touch of imagination, piece by piece it slots into place, forming a very sturdy, structurally sound, king (Henry) sized bed.”
Farewell Lion. See you later Babyblue. Fly high Jos¨. Smooth sailing, Hanman. We love you Hannaz. Vale our beautiful Jess.
