He yelled the words, “You don’t need a sports car, you need a job, son!” I laughed as I yelled back, “Rich coming from you! You’ve had a legit job for maybe six months of your life, dad!” I had already years under my belt working. I was in between jobs and had a heroin addiction, new born son, partner and fresh out of jail – and arguing with my dad as I slid my new, ill-gained Skyline up his street at 6.30am. Yes, it was ill-gained yet legit at the same time. Me and my father were not overly close – it’s how we adults were. We could not speak for extended periods, then catch up and hang out as if nothing or no time had just separated us for years on end. We could talk intensely, passionately heated or calmly, even silently sit for hours by a fire, not speaking a word – content, comfortable, time standing still for us. When we’d hug, we’d always comment, “Damn, you’re as big as a horse!” The one good thing about spending all those years in jail I guess!

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I was nowhere near as close to my old boy as I’d have loved to be, and even still, I’d always learn that we were so similar. I never had to hide who I was, because we were one and the same, a slightly different shell with a trait or two different. Around him, I felt my most confident, strong, focused and happy. The memory I shared of a time I lived with my father for a fortnight, with my partner, my young son and also a younger brother he had with that partner – this is my Happy Place. When times are hard, this memory pulls me through.

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I hope you all have a place that you can feel your strength from. I wish I had more of these than I do, now he’s gone. Make most of your time people, inside or out – our lives are too short to waste. Find your Happy Place.

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Even though we disagreed about it, every time I get in that sports car, I hear his voice, see his face and feel his hug embrace me. It’s all about perspective.