The last time I had a job interview, my interviewer asked me to tell her about myself. The first thing I said was, “Well, I’m a father…”
A little while back, I was fortunate to have a session with two old friends of mine who are about to become parents for the first time, Mike and Molly. In fact, as I write this Molly could go into labor just about any second now.
Thinking back to when we used to sit around sharing drinks, I had no idea of the changes I was in for when my first son came along, to say nothing of now, with my three magnificent sons who amaze me every day. But even back then, I was excited about the idea of becoming a parent, excited about beginning a journey that I felt would be my fulfillment as a human being and as a man. It’s exciting, too, to see others on the cusp of that. It’s exciting to see them so close to knowing how much love their life can be filled with.
Recent circumstances have meant that my wife and I have had to rearrange our work lives. She’s returning to full time work tomorrow and I’ll be assuming the role of “stay at home” dad. It’s a terribly impotent understatement to say that I feel thankful and fortunate to have this opportunity to strengthen my relationship with my sons, and I’m excited anew at what fatherhood will bring my way.
I’m really looking forward to having Mike and Molly’s little girl in front of my camera for the first time. And, of course, my sons will still give me time off every now and then when you’re ready for me to take your picture 
Cellist Bernard Greenhouse died early last month at the age of 95, after life long mastery of his chosen instrument. I know almost nothing about the cello and less than I’d like to about the art of music. But something I heard Mr. Greenhouse speak about in an interview recorded several years ago has stuck with me.
