I'm sure many of you reading this would have watched the ABC's Australian Story on Monday night about Tim Fischer, and like me, ended up mopping the eyes.
It's always sad to see someone in decline from a terminal disease, but especially so when it's someone who stood so tall and was such a distinctive and unforgettable presence on the national stage.
Many words have been used since his death last week to describe the former Nationals leader and deputy prime minister, among them 'genuine', 'sincere', 'honest' and 'underrated', but probably the word that best sums him up is 'decent'.
In a political working environment where grudges, paybacks, treachery and character assassination are all part of the game, he stood apart as a champion of integrity, loyalty, and common decency.
The plaudits that have flowed since from both sides of the political divide bear testimony to the high regard in which Fischer was held, not just as a politician, but as a human.
Following an earlier stint in the NSW parliament, he came to Canberra in 1984 as the member for Farrer and in 1990 took over the leadership of the party following an election that resulted in the then leader, Charles Blunt, losing his seat.
It had been a period of turmoil for the Nats, and Fischer quickly restored order and a sense of purpose and destiny among the demoralised party ranks.
I attended many Nationals conferences for The Land during the 1990s, and I remember how, after making his way to the stage through the applauding delegates, he would remove his trademark Akubra and place it on the table in front of him for all to see.
It sat there throughout the ensuing speeches and debates as a constant reminder to the assembled delegates of whose interests they were there to serve: the people of rural Australia.
The Nationals were still the Country Party by name when Fischer entered politics in 1970, and I always felt he would have considered the change of name a mistake (as I did), although I never asked him.
But having said that, he was undoubtedly thinking "national" rather than "country" in 1996 when he courageously stood by John Howard to stare down opponents to gun law reform after Port Arthur.
Often dismissed or lampooned by the intelligentsia as a country hick, Fischer was as wily a politician as the best of them.
He used his quirkiness to gain media exposure for his pet causes and thereby help keep both his party and the bush in the public eye.
His individuality and idiosyncratic Australian-ness did him no harm either as trade minister, in which capacity he pulled off a number of country-to-country deals with payoffs for rural exports.
Australia - and especially rural (and railway) Australia - will be poorer for his passing. Vale Tim.
