It's a lovely way to remember them too. Happy. That's the bit of Dads eulogy I couldn't read - imagining where he would be.

About a month ago Dad and I were listening to music in the back living room. He was a little spaced out and staring pensively at his guitars.

‘Just wondering how I can sneak ‘em in’, he said.

‘Where, Dad?’ I ask.

‘Well.’ he said slowly. ‘Wherever it is I’m going’.

I like to imagine that wherever he is, there’s a well tuned guitar there just for him. There’s some top class stereo equipment and an architecturally designed house with a killer view. The waves are peeling across the bay, it's offshore, and there's a tripod set up to take photos of the birds.

See ya, Dad.

But it's nice to think of that now.