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We cannot help feeling, with deep regret, the circle of our old friends gradually diminishing, while our ability to increase it by new ones is equally diminished; but perhaps it is a wise dispensation of Providence so to diminish our enjoyments in this world, that when our turn comes we may leave it without regret.

That is the worst part of life when its earlier path is trod. If my limbs get stiff, my walks are made shorter, and my rides slower; if my eyes fail me, I can use glasses and a large print: if I get a little deaf, I comfort myself that except in a few instances I shall be no great loser by missing one full half of what is spoken: but I feel the loneliness of age when my companions and friends are taken from me.

I found these thoughts of Watts and Sir Walter Scott interesting: they were found while searching for "old age" gifts.

What about planting Unk's favorite tree outside his bedroom window in his honor?