I asked my dad what he wanted for Father's Day, specifically something that truly embodied his spirit.

He just paused, looked at me, and said, "Hi embodied spirit, I'm Dad!"

I asked my dad to write a letter to me and my siblings for Father's Day, but with one condition: he had to write it as if it were his last piece of advice to us.

He wrote a single sentence: 'Don't forget to mow the lawn, it's supposed to rain next week.'

I asked my dad why he still keeps all my childhood artwork, even the really bad drawings, and he said

it's because he's not looking at the artwork, he's looking at the memory, and that's something no artist can replicate.

For Father's Day, I told my dad I was feeling generous and wanted to buy him something extravagant.

He looked at me and said, "Hi generous, I'm dad!"