Fatherhood: Reflections on the last days of summer with my son

Popcorn, beer, and fans in blue surrounded us. Summer sun was beating down; a cool wind comforted us; and the crowd roared when a homerun soared over the back wall.

His face glowed with hope and joy as we sat: My son and I perched in the Bronx.

He knew that I didn’t like staying for a full game, but he asked me, “Dad, can we stay till the end?”

Usually, I said no, giving a reason like we needed to get home to do something important.

But a realization slapped me, hard. And it was this. The only summer I have with my son as a five-year-old is ending.

“Make the most of it, fool,” I thought to myself.

Making as many happy memories as I could with him became my aim, doing the things he wanted, even if they went against what I preferred.

So we stayed.

The innings were exciting. But witnessing the wonder and excitement in his eyes brought me the greatest joy. My son smiled, cheered, clapped, and laughed. And I couldn’t help but join him.

And I found myself not wanting to leave the game even after the last out.

But we both left satisfied, hand-in-hand—father and son.

Punching loneliness in the face

Loneliness is an unseen wound many of us carry, buried in us, festering and hard to heal.

Loneliness and I know each other well.

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How New Yorkers react to our five pound baby

New York can be a hard place. People are rushing around you, treating you as if you weren’t human, only something in their way. The bustle can be overwhelming. You can get lost in the shuffle and feel like a number. But living here with a family has been very different, especially with a newborn.

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The Saturday afternoon we lost our son

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and we were in Washington Square Park, the iconic park in downtown Manhattan. The large marshmallow clouds marched in rows over the skyline; there was a slight breeze that brought comfort from the warmth of the sun shining down on the sea of humanity. The fountain was spraying water in the air, while kids danced and frolicked in the water. The landmark arc was white and seemed to glow as it towered over everything and everyone. People were everywhere: around the fountain, on benches, milling around, walking through, watching entertainers, on the grass in bathing suits. Dancers were dancing, musicians were playing, and the audiences were paying. Every creed, color, nationality seemed present. It was a collage of park, people, art, music, city, and nature. It was truly humanity at its best on a beautiful Saturday afternoon.

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Have you ever considered a prenup?

On an episode of the Tim Ferriss Show, one of his guests, Ramit Sethi, talked about prenuptial agreements, or prenups, which are contracts signed before people get married that dictate rights to property and what happens after there is a divorce. They were both in favor of them.

It was interesting.

I don’t mean that in a snarky condescending, self-righteous way. I mean it was truly enlightening and helpful to consider.

As much as I am a huge fan of Tim Ferriss (and really enjoyed Sethi), on this subject, I disagree.

There is business in marriage. There are financials, income, taxes, losses, gains, spreadsheets, etc. Money plays a large part in the relationship and often is one of the main topics couples fight about. All true.

But marriage is not a business.

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In NYC, spring is in the air

The smells of New York City are usually the butt of a joke (which is often associated with the smell of a butt).

But in the spring, there is something sweet in the air.

It’s surprising.

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What the crosswalk lady said unsettled me

On our way home from school, a stream of neighborhood children cross at an intersection where a woman with a rich Latin-American accent greets every child by name as she helps them across the street every day. Dulce’s our crosswalk lady.

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