Six months ago, at the tender age of fifty, I became a father for the first time. Honestly, I had no idea what to expect: emotionally, physically, or financially. Sometimes I get to work lucky to find my shoe laces tied and surprised I'm wearing matching socks. When the day is done I stumble out of the subway, mystified when my legs find the strength to hurry on back home.

After not seeing them for so long I am at a loss, not knowing which of the boys to pick up first. If it's Olin, he laughs and laughs as I hug him. If Luca, he grabs on to my shirt with both hands and buries his little face into my neck, nuzzling in and refusing to let go.

Sometimes I wish my body was ten years younger. More money or leisure time sure would be nice. Not every day is a good day and I definitely don't have all the answers.

My biggest regret is that we live so far away from our loved ones in Guatemala and Korea.

But I've never felt happier.