My dad hurt his knee yesterday. I came home from work to find him sitting on my couch, his knee curved over a pillow with the heating pad on. He had fallen half asleep watching TV, and when I kissed his forehead to say hello he mumbled at me.

Later while I was cleaning the kitchen, he came in to help me screw the cabinets back on since the paint was dry on them, and I said something like "No, Dad, it's cool, I've got it, go sit back down." and he gave me this look, this Don't make me old before God does kind of look. Silent and shamed and full of love, I watched him screw on the cabinets.

When he slowly, painfully ascended the stairs to go to bed, I picked up the screwdriver to make sure all the screws were tight.

They were.