“Balsam dye? At over seventy?” my mother said. But in the end, unable to resist my persistent urging, she held out her thumbs. The next day, when I called her, she switched to a video call and waved her thumbs this way and that. “Aren’t they pretty? The color turned out beautifully. I’m feeling fancy thanks to my daughter!” Seeing her so delighted—like a little girl—I felt a lump in my throat. I should have done this for her sooner, I thought. Mom, I’ll do it for you again next year. Please stay healthy.