I miss arguing with you, trying to learn stuff by watching you, wondering why one wine tastes better than another, having a slab of butter melting in a burger you barbecued, your stubbornness, the worried brow, the bloody-mindedness, the golf swing, the purple saloon, getting greasy hands under the ol’ hillman, irish folk music.

I see you in my children, my brothers and my life.

I miss the single-minded determination that kept us together.

Mostly I wonder if you’d be proud of me

As a teenager I thought it strange, quirky and humorous: odd.

As an adult man, with a mortgage, working in a cyclic industry, thinking about starting a family, who reads widely about sub-prime meltdowns and global environmental breakdown, who gets nervous flying – I understand differently now…. great advice for being an adult.

Don’t Panic!