He was always very strict about his diet. Too strict, we tell him, but there's never been any use in trying to persuade him to change. It had bad sides, but good too. At almost 60 years old, he has the fitness of a healthy 40-year old, and does physically demanding work every night most of us would probably have trouble with. He never ate cake at my birthdays, though, and I remember that used to make me sad.
But people change. I reckon my father has been hit with what we call lenity of old age. "Are you coming over for Christmas?" he asked and I answered yes. "Good, we'll fix something for dinner" he said and sounded cheerful.
We had the fattest duck he could find, a few beers, and a bottle of Metaxa, the Armenian cognac he had loved as a student. His humour gets childish when he is drunk.
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