Father turned 80 three years ago and we were home for his birthday.
We took him and my mother jet-boating up the whanganui river because it’s something we knew he’d like. Father wasn’t able to walk to the bridge to nowhere, so we left him in a shelter back down the track. When we returned, he was chatting to some tourists, telling them about some of the history of the place.
His body might be ageing, but his mind is sharp and his stories are always worth listening to.
I want the light in my eyes to be shining – as much as it does in his – when I am in my 80’s.