Today I assisted my mother in getting my father to the barber shop. I am grateful my mom was able to find one of the last few barbers to offer the service of shaving. It was sweet. Soap and brush, hot towels, straight blade - the whole nine yards. I am grateful for his courtesy and kindness. "How young are you, Jack?" "Oh, 85 years young?!" His light-heartedness was comforting. My mom said next time she would be able to get him there by herself. I told her I would happy to go with them again.