Eleanor was brave in her final act. It gives her family strength to carry on

On a crisp country evening in a storybook town, the sky is wide strokes of autumnal orange and blue.

A huge gaggle of geese waddles by the roadside, honking happily, apparently oblivious to the traffic zooming past while lights twinkle on a small gazebo in the front garden of a neighbourhood centre.

And next door, a green fence stands at the border of the Montessori preschool, carrying the memory of a tragedy that struck here 18 months ago.

Eleanor Bryant – a gifted speech pathologist, wife and mother of two – was killed at the preschool in Riddells Creek in the Macedon Ranges in November 2024, when an out-of-control water tanker ploughed through its playground.

Eleanor’s final act was to move a child out of the tanker’s path, saving the pre-schooler’s life.

Today, Eleanor’s family is at a park just over the road.

A little girl gripping the handle of a flying fox watches curiously while they have their photo taken.

There is Eleanor’s son, 13-year-old Charlie, fresh from local footy training, her daughter, 11-year-old Tully, and husband Tim Bryant, who has a firm handshake and protective eyes. “Positivity and the community coming together,” he says, “that’s the main message.”

Bryant has been reticent to speak to journalists since the death of his wife, preferring instead to simply meet with The Age, and share his grief with funeral director Kate Morgan, in a podcast interview to which this masthead was granted early access.

He recalls the first phone call from Eleanor’s father after the accident on November 11. Eleanor’s father tried calling his daughter, but the police picked up instead.

“He was in a bit of a flutter, saying ‘they can’t talk, they can’t talk’, and I said, ‘OK, just leave it with me’,” Tim says. “The penny hadn’t dropped yet.”

What followed was a haze of horror phone calls – with the police, Eleanor’s father, and other family and friends.

Then, on the hour’s drive home from work, Bryant prepared to tell his children, then aged just 11 and nine.

“It’s one of the hardest things you’ll ever do,” Bryant says. But he knew that in the 24 hours following Eleanor’s death, he had to keep going.

“I’ve got a beautiful woman to honour, and some children, and a family that’s going to have to go through grief again, and so I’m going to do it as best I can,” Bryant says.

There is a twist of fate to Eleanor’s death. She lived with the innate fear she would meet the same end as her mother, Cynthia, who died on Eleanor’s 12th birthday.

“They were running late to the bus,” Tim says. “There was a car accident, and unfortunately, her mum passed away. That was etched in Eleanor’s memory.”

However cruel, her mother’s death taught Eleanor to respect the sanctity of life, and hold on to its joy and beauty. It’s a lesson her husband took to heart.

“It’s about how to get on to honour Eleanor, to ensure that that grief that clouded her life and her family and the pain that it caused, to try and minimise that for myself and my children, and everyone around,” Bryant says.

“That’s the power of positivity, and positive grieving.”

The same motivation stops him from wasting his time on anger. “Could I be angry? Yes, but what’s that going to achieve?” he says. “Eleanor’s not coming back. He [the tanker driver] didn’t mean to do it.”

Photos of Eleanor and Tim show them smiling broadly, easily – running together, or with their children by their side. Today at the park, Tim cracks the odd smile, but beside his wife’s memorial tree and plaque, his body and face betray a different kind of weight.

He looks down often. He pulls his children close.

Running became a comfort after Eleanor’s death, Bryant tells the funeral director in the podcast.

“I didn’t resort to alcohol because I knew that was not going to end well, or anything else,” he says. “I was able to get out there with some friends and run, and keep my body healthy to then try and keep my mind healthy.”

Family and friends of the Bryants will run in the Great Ocean Road Running Festival on Sunday, raising money for The Eleanor Bryant Memorial Fund, which grants scholarships to rural and regional students studying for careers in allied health.

Bryant and the children still live in Riddells Creek, and have no intention of moving, he tells The Age.

The family is surrounded by a supportive community; more than 1000 people flocked to a memorial service run by Morgan’s business, Tomorrow Funerals, in November 2024 at Melbourne’s Palais Theatre.

Bryant often talks to his wife, who he says was compassionate “beyond belief”, brutally honest, with a wicked sense of humour.

He says he sees her in birds like kookaburras and blue wrens.

But most of all, he sees her in his children, who he says carry their mother’s bravery with them.

Bryant talks about reckoning with the day he had to pack away some of Eleanor’s belongings.

“One thing Eleanor mentioned to me one day before she passed was, ‘I know if I’ve got a good dress when my daughter gives me the thumbs up’,” he says.

“As I work towards that as another task of grieving, of packing that up, it’ll be something that I’ll do with her, with my daughter.”

At the park in Riddells Creek, it is the day after Eleanor’s birthday – May 12 – and Mother’s Day has just passed.

In between photos, Bryan looks down at his daughter, who is bubbly and relaxed, and carefully strokes the girl’s hair.

Tomorrow Funerals’ podcast Life & Death, Today & Tomorrow is on YouTube.