Last weekend, I took my 92-year-old dad to the mall to buy him a new pair of shoes. Once we wrapped up our shopping, we headed over to the food court for a quick meal and found seats beside a teenager whose hair was styled in bright, spiked colors. Vivid shades of green, red, orange, and blue shot straight upward, standing out like a painted sunrise.
Naturally, my dad couldn’t look away. He wasn’t staring with judgment — just quiet fascination, the kind you see from someone who has lived long enough to watch the world change in remarkable and unexpected ways. I noticed the boy shifting in his seat, stealing uncertain glances at my dad, clearly confused as to why this elderly man kept watching him.
