Forty-three. I’m grateful for my wife, for our two kids, and for the chance to be part of their everyday lives. I know how easy it is to get through dinner thinking about the next thing that needs doing. Some nights I’d like to leave the dishes for a few minutes and see where the conversation goes.

I also want to make more time for my wife to tell me how she’s doing. It’s easy for the two of us to talk about what the kids need and what has to happen tomorrow. I want to remember to ask how her day felt and give her enough time to answer.

A birthday makes it tempting to write a long list of things I want to change. I’d rather start with a couple of moments that already happen most days. When someone is talking at dinner, I can wait until they finish before I get up. When my wife and I finally have a quiet minute, I can give that minute my attention before we go back to figuring out tomorrow.

I’m also getting old enough to appreciate how often we get to begin again in the same house with the same people. I can have a distracted evening and do a little better the next day. I can remember something one of the kids mentioned and ask about it in the morning. It’s a small way to say I was listening, and I’m still interested.

When I come back to this post on another September 7, I hope it reminds me what I cared about at forty-three. I wanted more time with the people I love, and I wanted to be more present in the time we already had.