When my father was the age I am now

he had less than twelve years left. Don't why this melancholy notion came up now, but it makes me reflect again on my own experiences as a father. How have I done?

I'm not done, of course - you're never "done" as a parent - but to a great extent, whatever Teri and I have to give our children in terms of teaching or guidance, we've done it. My baby girl is sixteen and my boy is twenty-six; they're pretty fully formed.

I found myself talking about this today to one of my co-workers, and I realized as I was talking how unreal what I was saying must seem to her; her boy is five. But I kept talking. (Surprise)

And I realized  - not for the first time - that I am very proud of my kids, and that all questions of nurture vs. nature aside, at least some of who they are is the result of who their parents are, and the things we did and said over the course of years.

It's just that after so many years of being a parent, and of thinking of that being the most important work in my life, I'm going to need some time to figure out the order of things when that changes.

But not right now.