My dad, John Clement Newberry, was a man of few words. But in his silence, there was strength. In his actions, there was love. And in his life, there was a legacy that continues to shape mine.
Lessons from the land
Dad grew up on a beef and dairy farm in Gum Scrub, a small rural community on the mid-north coast of New South Wales. It was a place of hard work, early mornings, and muddy boots. Life on the land shaped him – instilling resilience, discipline, and a deep sense of responsibility. These qualities stayed with him throughout his life and helped shape mine.
He was a provider in every sense. He was reliable, disciplined, and dependable. He didn’t need grand gestures to show his love. A block of Cadbury chocolate on a Friday night, a steady presence, a provider, a quiet word of encouragement – these were his ways. And they meant the world.
Dad moved to the city as an adult, and as he aged and was diagnosed with dementia, he received excellent care. He was supported by a loving family and a health system that was accessible and responsive. We were able to advocate for him, to be present, and to ensure his dignity was preserved. I’m deeply grateful for that.
“But I know that for many families, especially those in rural and remote communities, this kind of care isn’t always possible.”
As I reflect on his recent passing, I find myself thinking not only about the man he was, but about the broader role fathers play in our lives. For many, fathers are a source of strength and guidance. For others, their absence or imperfections leave a different kind of mark. But whether present or distant, nurturing or flawed, fathers shape us. Their influence whether positive or painful is deeply felt.
The rural reality
In rural communities, where stoicism often runs deep and health conversations can be hard to start, it’s especially important that we look after our dads. Too often, men delay seeking help.
In my role as CEO of Rural Doctors Foundation, I see the gaps – where distance, limited services, and workforce shortages make it harder for rural Australians to access timely and quality healthcare. I see first-hand the challenges rural men face in accessing healthcare. Distance, stigma, and limited services can all stand in the way. I see the fathers who delay seeking help, who live with pain or illness because the nearest clinic is hours away. They push through pain, dismiss symptoms, and carry burdens quietly. But strength isn’t just about endurance – it’s also about knowing when to ask for support.
I see the quiet stoicism that mirrors my dad’s generation, but without the safety net he had.
This contrast is deeply personal. It drives my commitment to our mission: to ensure that no matter where you live, you can access the care you need. Because every dad, whether he’s a man of few words or one who speaks constantly, deserve to be looked after.
That’s why all of us at Rural Doctors Foundation are committed to supporting initiatives that bring care closer to home, encourage early intervention, and foster conversations about physical and mental wellbeing.
On this special day in September, remember to honour the fathers and father figures in your life. Check in on them. Encourage them to seek care. Support the services that make health accessible in the bush.
Because caring for our fathers is one of the most powerful ways we can say thank you. And ensuring that rural fathers receive the care they deserve is one of the most meaningful ways we can honour their legacy.
On my first Father’s Day without him, I remember my dad, not just for the life he lived, but for the lessons he left behind. My dad’s life was a blessing. His legacy is one of love, integrity, and quiet strength. I will carry that forward, with my family, my friends and in the way I care for others.
