Andy Enright
I RARELY SAW EYE TO eye with my father. As a child, I avoided him, bolting out of the front door as soon as his van pulled into the garage at 4pm, kicking my heels on the city streets until dinner time. He mellowed in his later years due to the decline of his physical faculties but the relationship was always fractious. He died 17,000km from me as I was walking to work in 2014, the news coming in a call from my brother. I carried on walking, choosing not to burden anyone in the Wheels office that day with this piece of news. Some weeks later, my mother presented herself on these shores with a casket of ashes. I took them to a beautiful local lake and tipped them…