For Father's Day, we offered to help my dad organize his meticulously curated garage.

He just smiled and said, 'No thanks, that's *my* version of a meditation retreat. Don't touch anything, you'll disrupt the feng shui of the socket set.'

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 what he truly wanted for Father's Day this year.

He just sighed dramatically and said, "Peace and quiet... and someone to stop touching the thermostat."

My dad's most consistent Sunday afternoon activity was falling asleep in his favorite recliner, often with a newspaper draped over his face.

I used to think he was just catching some Z's, but looking back, it was his quiet way of always being present, anchoring our home. He was our rock, even when he was napping.