I've been a dad for almost 30 years.

Five kids.

And for most of those years, there was always someone who needed something.

Someone wanted to play a game, watch a movie, tell me about their day, or just hang around wherever I happened to be.

I can remember nights when I couldn't get five minutes to myself.

And plenty of times when I probably wished I could.

These days, I find myself wishing for some of those nights back.

It's a strange feeling.

Especially because I knew this was coming.

Watching the Clock

A few years ago, I found myself doing the math.

My youngest was getting older, and having already watched his siblings go through those stages, I had a pretty good idea of what was ahead.

I remember wondering how many more Saturday nights we'd spend watching movies together.

How much longer he'd want me to play video games with him.

How many more years I'd be the person he wanted to hang around with, even when we weren't doing anything particularly exciting.

I was trying to appreciate those moments while they were happening.

I thought that might make it easier when things began to change.

Turns out, it hasn't.

Just Another Car Ride

The other day, I picked up my son from a friend's house.

We were sitting at a stoplight, and I could feel my eyes starting to water.

He was sitting beside me.

Headphones on. Looking at his phone.

Nothing was wrong.

And that's what made the moment so difficult to explain.

Because I could remember, as if it were yesterday, picking him up and listening to him talk excitedly about the latest video game coming out.

Or the new toy he wanted for his birthday.

Or asking if we could play virtual reality mini golf when we got home.

And the thing is, that was practically yesterday.

Maybe two years ago.

Somehow, in what feels like the blink of an eye, those conversations have become fewer and further between.

And I find myself missing them more than I expected, even though I'd been trying to prepare myself for exactly this.

Two Feelings at Once

Here's the part I'm struggling to reconcile.

I'm incredibly happy for my children.

I love watching them grow into their own people. Seeing their confidence develop, their friendships deepen, and their lives become filled with experiences and opportunities that belong entirely to them.

It's everything I ever wanted.

And yet, at the very same time, there's a sadness I haven't quite figured out what to do with.

I miss being needed in the ways I used to be.

I miss the little voices calling for Dad from the other room.

I miss knowing that an ordinary Saturday night together was something they looked forward to as much as I did.

And lately, I've found myself asking questions that are difficult to answer.

Did I enjoy those years enough?

Was I present enough?

Did I leave too many moments on the table?

Did I do a good job?

And maybe the one that gets me most.

Will I ever feel that particular kind of happiness again?

I know there are wonderful things ahead.

I'm looking forward to them.

But I suppose there's a difference between being excited about what's coming and being ready to leave something behind.

Nothing to Fix

I've spent much of my life helping people navigate change.

I've led teams through uncertainty, coached people through difficult transitions, built things, and started over.

And yet, here I am, struggling with something I've known was coming for years.

I wish I had some wonderful insight to share about how to navigate this part of life.

But I don't.

Maybe because there's nothing to fix.

Nothing to solve.

Just something to feel.

For now, I'm learning to appreciate the moments that still come, while looking forward to all the new ways we'll be part of each other's lives.

And who knows?

Maybe there are still a few more video games to play. A few more catches in the backyard. A few more Saturday nights on the couch.

And when they ask, I hope they know...

There's nowhere else I'd rather be. ❤️

It's funny how much of life we spend trying to build something better for the people we love, and how easily we can lose sight of the time we have with them along the way.

That feeling runs through the pages of Leadership at the Dinner Table.

You can find it on Amazon or wherever you buy your books.

With Absolute Sincerity,
Ed Clementi
Founder & CEO, Inspired Fire
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