RIVER Purtill's life was celebrated doing things he loved to do.

There was a jumping castle, dunk tank, arts and craft and face painting.

But, while there was one cheeky, "tough as nails" four-year-old missing, River enabled his friends to grab life for a fleeting moment, full of smiles, tears and reflections at his wake.

River succumbed to a rare form of cancer on December 14 last year following a brave fight.

Diagnosed a year earlier with adrenal cortical carcinoma — a one in a million diagnosis — River received ongoing treatment at the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne.

His parents, Rebecca and Nathan, thanked the Swan Hill community for the support they received during the journey.

"Everyone has been so nice and generous, people we didn't even know," Nathan told The Guardian.

"We pushed back at the start, but wouldn't have been able to do half the stuff that we could of without it."

River's cancer was discovered after he was taken to a local GP suffering from bloating.

A 17cm mass was found above his right kidney.

Following testing in Melbourne, the tumour was removed during a gruelling nine-hour operation.

After being given news River was now in remission, he returned home in time for Christmas in 2018.

However, the cancer returned, and in May, he underwent surgery to remove a tumour, his right colon and kidney.

"We just made the best for him," Rebecca said.

"The financial support made it so we could spend time with River without worrying about that side of things."

Rebecca said the family having to be split, with their other son, Nate, at pre-school and Nathan returning to work, was the "hardest of things".

"We didn't see Nate for the first couple of months, he came down on weekends," she said.

River's final moments included him "still being a pain in the bum".

"He was really with it, cheeky little self," Nathan said, adding when he woke from naps he was "on fire".

"Picked him up from the bed, then to the couch and the window, back and forth.

"He wanted to brush his own teeth on the last day."

Nathan said the family knew because it was such an aggressive form of cancer there was a chance it could return.

"We tried to make most of the time at home," she said.

"Which we did; River got to go to pre-school for a little while, do normal kid things, which was lovely."

Proudly displayed on the fridge at the family home are countless paintings and photos, an expression of River's love for art.

"Most parents would think what their children do is crap, but it's stuff that we can keep now," Nathan said.

Asked how they would best remember the light of their world, Nathan chimed in: "Stubborn".

Rebecca was adamant he was just "strong willed".

"He was a fighter right until the end," she said.

"We were told he only had days, but he hung around for weeks. When they said he only had a few hours, he hung around for three days.

"He was a tough little man, easy going and nothing phased him."

Nathan remembered his spirit to the end.

"He would wake up at 6am, have chemotherapy, vomit, sit on the couch, put on Toy Story and then have three or four rounds of toast," he said.

"Just tough as nails."

The Purtills thanked the team at the Royal Children's Hospital and Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre, saying they didn't have one bad experience.

"It's just amazing we have a world-class facility," Rebecca said.

"River didn't want to leave.

"The first time we got discharged after being there for six weeks, he was crying because he didn't want to leave the nurses."

River leaves a medical legacy, as more research is conducted into the rare cancer.

"Our oncologist wanted River's case because of how rare it was," Rebecca said.

"When River had his second tumour removed, it was taken to the lab and tested.

"We felt we wanted to do that because ultimately that will help someone else."

River's case was the first the hospital had seen in 10 to 15 years.

But, ironically, during the Purtills admission to the hospital, two other families were admitted with the same diagnosis.

"River's case was genetic, so without testing we would have never known and would have kept going...he was meant to be here for a reason," Nathan said with pride.

"He will save more lives."

River's funeral was more a celebration of his short and bursting life, held at St Mary's Catholic Church in Swan Hill on December 20.

Songs included You've Got A Friend in Me, The Wiggles' Rock-A-Bye Your Bear, Somewhere Over The Rainbow, Twinkle Little Star and Life Is A Highway.

Life symbols placed on his coffin included Luigi, a motocross jersey, motorbike helmet, Baby Hulk, Toy Story 2 DVD and a Bomber teddy.

"We had a really good day," Rebecca said.

"It was a party, with a jumping castle and dunk tank for the kids.

"We just wanted to make it fun and really celebrate his life, just doing the stuff he likes to do.

"It encouraged everyone to remember him in a good way, not just what he went through."

Thanks to children's cancer charity Challenge, last June, River, ran through the Essendon team banner at Marvel Stadium.

River was featured on a billboard with some of the team's players to promote the match, pictured sitting on footballer Michael Hurley's shoulders.

"Challenge were wonderful, they came in with all the fun stuff," Rebecca said.

"They have playgroup and music therapy for the kids that's can to normal playgroups.

"They have respite for the parents, with massages and host dinners in the hospital."

One of the final outings for River was the supercross in Melbourne.

"He got to go into the pits and meet the riders, he loved motorbikes, just a really good memory for the whole family," Rebecca said through tears.

The Purtills are now planning to participate again in the Good Friday Appeal Run for the Kids next month.

From the get go, there was humour at River's funeral.

"In the heartfelt dedication to RivDog, I would like to invite you to begin this eulogy with me by making the sign of the motor cross, in the name of the helmet, throttle, clutch and brake," Huck said.

"I like to think RivDog had a bit of a mantra in life that went something along the lines of, 'just do it and think about it later'. And to this mantra was how he introduced himself, set the benchmark and began life.

"He was an affectionate kid that wore his heart on his sleeve, for good or for bad.

"Some of my fondest moments with Riv was just having cuddles, sometimes slightly more aggressive cuddles, but others just head nestled in on the shoulder cuddles, that often saved me the pain of not having anything to say that could make things better."