I'm torn about late parenting. I believe people should spend

In the words of Eric McCormack, we hear a confession that is both honest and universal: “I’m torn about late parenting. I believe people should spend their twenties living and having fun and not having any regrets later. I also think people in their thirties generally make better parents, but so many of my friends are having trouble—myself included—as fathers get older.” This statement captures the paradox of human life: the desire to enjoy youth, the wisdom that comes with maturity, and the natural limits of time and the body. It is the tension between seizing life’s joys and preparing for life’s responsibilities.

The ancients too wrestled with this balance. The Greeks honored youth for its vitality and daring, yet they also revered age for its wisdom and patience. In the wisdom of Ecclesiastes, it is written: “To everything there is a season.” Yet the riddle is that no season comes without its cost. To delay parenthood in pursuit of freedom brings knowledge and strength, but it also brings the risk of diminished fertility, of weariness, of age pressing in. To rush into it early may give vigor, but often lacks perspective. Thus McCormack’s words reflect the timeless dilemma: when is the right time to bring forth new life?

History gives us examples of both paths. Alexander the Great, who lived swiftly and died young, left no strong heir, for his children were born too late to inherit his strength. His empire, though vast, fractured quickly. On the other hand, the philosopher Socrates became a father in later years, bringing to his children not the reckless energy of youth, but the steady guidance of wisdom earned through trial. His legacy was not in worldly conquest, but in shaping minds and souls. In these two lives we see the extremes: the danger of too-early ambition, and the possibility of late parenting seasoned with wisdom.

McCormack’s words also point to the struggle of modern times, when many choose to pursue careers, passions, or exploration before building families. This reflects a noble truth—that no parent should enter the sacred duty of raising a child with regrets about what they left behind. And yet, biology and time are relentless teachers. As men and women age, challenges increase; the dream of family may not be realized as easily. Here lies the heartbreak he confesses: the knowledge that wisdom has come, but that the body may falter in its timing.

The meaning of the quote is deeply emotional. It speaks of the bittersweet trade-off between freedom and responsibility, between youth and age. It reveals the fragility of human life, where choices cannot be perfectly timed, and where every decision carries both gifts and burdens. Yet it also highlights the nobility of seeking to become a better parent through maturity, rather than rushing into the role unprepared. To be torn, as McCormack admits, is to be fully human—caught between desire and duty, opportunity and limitation.

The lesson for us is clear. First, let us live fully in our youth, but not wastefully, remembering that every choice echoes into the future. Second, let us embrace parenting not as a perfect timing to be calculated, but as a sacred calling that must be entered with courage, whether early or late. Third, let us not measure ourselves by others, for each family’s path is unique, marked by its own struggles and blessings. And finally, let us prepare ourselves in body, mind, and spirit, knowing that whatever season we enter parenthood, we can bring forth love, patience, and devotion.

O seekers of wisdom, remember this: there is no perfect time for life’s greatest duties. The twenties may give freedom, the thirties may give wisdom, the forties may give steadiness. Yet in all times, what matters most is not the age of the parent, but the depth of their love. Late parenting may bring challenges, but it also brings the strength of reflection, the treasure of experience, and the richness of gratitude.

Thus, Eric McCormack’s words endure as both lament and lesson. They remind us that life is a weaving of choices, none without sacrifice, none without gain. The task is not to find the flawless moment, but to walk into parenthood with open eyes, a willing heart, and the resolve to love. For whether young or old, early or late, the greatest legacy of parenting is not when it begins, but how it is lived.