Fathers.

Today, I found myself in the back of an Uber on my way home from work.

The driver, an elderly man likely around my father’s age, tightly gripped the steering wheel, revealing the wrinkles on his hands. The cushion supporting his back hinted at the pain he endured. It saddened me, contemplating the sacrifices our fathers make to provide for us. My own father shares the same weathered hands, marked by wrinkles, dry skin, and cuts—a testament to the hard work he invested to secure our well-being. Every effort he put in allows me to sit in this Uber at this very moment.

As I rode in that Uber, I couldn’t help but reflect on the silent sacrifices made by fathers like mine, whose toil is etched into the lines on their hands. It’s a poignant reminder of the love and dedication that often goes unnoticed. So here I am, grateful for the journey made possible by my father’s unwavering commitment.