What do you get your 90 year old, low vision dad for Father’s Day, when he says he doesn’t need or want anything?
You get him a pair of drawstring Tommy Hilfinger shorts, and a box of 36 black Sharpie markers so he can read his own notes and ours.
And Indian take-out, medium spicy.
I find it difficult to see him looking so frail these days. He’s always been this stalwart presence in our lives, our biggest supporter in good times and bad, the dad who carpooled us everywhere and took us tent camping, immigrant-style. He still asks me if I need anything every time I call or stop by.
I figure at this point in his life, he’s earned a rest, a respite from worrying about his kids no matter how old they are.
Happy Father’s Day, dad. I hope we are lucky enough to celebrate many more. Time is so precious. Love you lots.