Named Forbes' Citizen of the Year in 2012 for his generous service of our community, presented with the Catholic Church's Exalted Cross in 2011 for his outstanding contribution of Christian service to the Church and to the community, Murray was beloved by many in our community and beyond.

His funeral was at St Laurence's Catholic Church on Monday, August 15.

This beautiful tribute has been prepared by his children Justine Field, Mark Field, and Nicholas Field ...

Dad started life in the tiny village of Bedgerebong as the youngest of Ena and Mervyn's six children and little brother of Vernon, Graham, Robert, Harvey and Janet.

According to brother Harvey, a typical day might see young Murray help the family by tending to the animals, gathering firewood or knocking out 100 fence posts.

The siblings would later cool off in the snake-infested river, or let off steam by shooting arrows and slingshots, crayfishing or climbing trees.

School was not his favourite place, especially after the principal told him he would never amount to anything. He completed his secondary education at Forbes High School and achieved an excellent pass in the 1963 Leaving Certificate.

Dad entered adulthood with a clear vocation. After working in the ES&A Bank for 12 months, he gained a position with the Accountant Richard Herborn who became his friend and mentor.

He studied at night while helping Mum with a toddler and baby, eventually becoming a fellow of the Institute of Chartered Accountants.

While most accountants would prefer not to disclose their profession, Dad wore his qualification as a badge of honour. However, we suspect that he felt uneasy sending invoices out to clients at the end of each month.

He didn't limit his expertise to his paid job, often helping older folks with their tax or a bit of financial advice. His work could not be separated from the community he was part of.

Dad found his niche when he moved from accountancy practice to the Catholic Education Office. He spent 22 years as the financial administrator of the Wilcannia-Forbes diocese and provided countless hours of financial support and service to all the schools and parishes in it.

His travel took him to locations such as Bourke, Brewarrina, Wilcannia, Broken Hill, Hay, Condo, Trundle, Deniliquin and Wentworth - an area covering 52 per cent of the state. He loved what he did and the schools and priests still talk of his legacy more than 10 years after he retired.

Murray and Maureen were married on 31 August 1968 and have enjoyed 54 years of happiness. Mum describes her time with Dad as a 'charmed life'. When Dad married Mum, he also joined the Nicholson family.

Early on, he bonded with Graham and Trevor over a shared love of sporting activities and enjoyed taking two year old Cathy and six year old Jeff for rides in the mini-minor.

According to Trevor, Murray never ran short on enthusiasm or energy - "it was like having a third brother but one who didn't punch me, argue, or dob on me to my parents."

Although he worked hard in his job, Dad always made space for his family. He intuitively understood what work life balance meant long before it became an overused catchphrase.

Dad included us in whatever he was doing and we were happy to tag along on weekend trips to the hardware store or tip.

At home he read bedtime stories, sang show tunes in an amusing baritone voice, cooked a barbeque lunch of a Sunday and made sure the table was set three times a day. Dad supplied the combination of ritual and adventure that childhood memories are made of.

For Dad, helping out with school events, sport and other activities was a natural extension of his role as a parent. He coached, managed and transported many kids' teams over the years.

Dad's only known brush with the law came when he was pulled over with eight kids in the back of the old Dodge ute in transit from school to the cricket nets.

As we got older, Dad provided a steady, calm presence and a ready ear. The message was always "it will be okay. We will work it out."

Rather than judgement and criticism there was encouragement and positivity. By the time he dispensed his quiet support and advice, we no longer felt things were beyond us. Beyond his immediate family, Dad was a friend and confidant to many.

Dad was many things to many people and achieved so much in his life. Retiring from the workforce only provided more opportunities to help others in need.

In 2012 Dad was awarded Forbes Citizen of the Year in recognition of his outstanding contribution to the local community. We are indebted to the community members who nominated him for compiling the staggeringly long list of his contributions.

Over the years he lent his time and expertise to junior and senior cricket, soccer, fun runs, toy libraries, preschool and school committees, Meals on Wheels, St Vincent de Paul, Mater Aged Care and the annual Jazz festival. Along with mum, he helped run CanAssist to support local people living with cancer.

Whether it was to provide expertise as treasurer or work on a sausage sizzle, he was consistently generous with his time.

His nominators foresaw that despite his compelling candidacy, he would be embarrassed to receive such an award.

They cautioned that their attempt to sum up his contributions and positive impact on so many lives would be inadequate. Yet in typically humble fashion, Dad told the Forbes Advocate:

"There are so many people around that deserve it. I suppose I was just lucky that I was drawn out. I just see it as things that I've got to keep on doing. I suppose you also hope that you are setting a good example for the younger people and I think I am."

He had something to give that others in need would benefit from. It was that simple. Much more than the prospect of public accolades, Dad was driven by an innate desire to do good.

In 2011, Dad was awarded one of the Catholic Church's most prestigious honours, the Exalted Cross, bestowed by Pope Benedict the sixteenth in recognition of outstanding service to the Catholic Church.

It is fitting that Dad died on 8 August, the anniversary of the death of Saint Mary McKillop which is observed as her feast day. He hugely admired and respected her unrelenting desire to serve and help people especially those that society had forgotten.

We were unable to recall Dad ever having said a bad word about anyone he knew.

He took people as he found them and would never miss an opportunity to say g'day to someone and see how they were going. Everyone had a story to tell and something to bring to the table.

He was not impressed by someone's wealth, status or possessions but their qualities as a person. He treated everyone with respect and we learned through observing his example rather than being told how to act.

Dad's brother Robert describes him as a unifying force, an instrument of love and generosity in his interaction with others.

And in the words of Trevor: "to say that I have great admiration and love for Murray would be an understatement. He was a man of outstanding character and integrity with unshakeable values. He was selfless, caring, humble and sensitive always to the needs of others."

Dad had an astounding capacity to retain information, an attribute that made his chosen occupation a natural fit. He subscribed to the newsletters of all the grandkids' schools and read every word.

This handy bit of parental outsourcing meant we could rely on him to be abreast of upcoming events and remind us if necessary. We were sure he was the best-briefed grandparent on the planet.

Perhaps most importantly, Dad always made a huge effort for him and Mum to attend all the important events in the lives of their grandchildren, whether that be in Forbes, Sydney or Canberra.

Dad adored his seven grandchildren and they adored him back. None of them could do anything wrong in his eyes. Of course, they had him completely fooled.

Dad had a thirst for learning about what makes people who they are. He loved reading autobiographies that told stories of triumph of the human spirit over challenging circumstances. He was equally enthusiastic towards learning about people in his own community.

If someone told him something about themselves, he remembered it. He had a great interest in family history - and not just his own - at times he surprised people with revelations about who they were related to. It was as though mapping out these connections anchored him even further in his community.

Over the years, Dad took up new interests with zeal, learning everything there was to know about long distance running, overseas travel and a gig co-ordinating HSC supervision. He always had a book on the go and during treatment downtime took a deep dive into war history and concentration camps which he would willingly share for a bit of light relief.

For Dad, enjoying his remaining days to the fullest wasn't about travelling to exotic locations or buying a flash car, it was just being close to home, spending time with family and being well enough to squeeze in simple pleasures like a game or two of golf each week.

Dad's choice to spend his last days at home was made possible by the incredibly skilled and caring palliative care and community nursing team. We are so grateful to them.

There is nothing good about losing Dad at the age of 76. While our lives will gradually grow around the edges of the massive hole he has left, they will never grow over it.

But there is so much to celebrate about Dad's life and the person that he was.

It's only now that we are beginning to realise how many people's lives he touched.

The countless messages we have received from the community contain a resounding theme: Dad was a true gentleman. Enough said.

We were so lucky to have him.