Anne and I went to dinner last night with our friends Jack and Natalie Hattaway. We usually average one night out with them per month, and lately it seems like we’ve bumped up the frequency a bit. These evenings together are always relaxed, low-key affairs, filled with laughter and endless talk about… well, not much of anything, really, but the discussion is always entertaining.

Last night, however, felt different. Our conversation wasn’t exactly heavy but there was definitely something in the air, the same mildly anxious feeling you get as a kid when the back-to-school sales begin. You know a particular time of your life is winding down and a new one is about to begin. Change is imminent, and while the change may not be unwelcome, there is always some concern about exactly what it will mean. Last night this concern manifested itself in a reluctance to let the evening end. I believe all four of us felt it. We felt compelled to watch just one more episode of Samurai Jack, even though it was already past Anne and Jack’s bedtime. And we had to stand together on Jack and Nat’s front porch for just another couple of minutes, talking about just one more topic before we called it a night. As I backed my car out of their driveway, I looked toward their house and saw Natalie still standing on the porch. Natalie, looking very round and uncomfortable and ready to not be pregnant anymore. Change was imminent.

The change arrived this afternoon with the birth of the Hattaways’ first child, a boy named Cole. I’m sure Jack will be posting the relevant statistics soon on his own Web site, so I will say only that mother and child are doing fine and Jack sounded only moderately shell-shocked when I spoke with him on the phone. He and Natalie have Anne’s and my congratulations and fondest wishes. I’m sure the future will hold many more shared dinners and bowling games and trips to the Shakespeare festival and perhaps to other destinations as well. But I also know that things will be different now, and that makes me just a bit sad.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled for my friends and look forward to seeing their boy. I know they’re going to be fine parents and that this event will bring them much happiness. But I am also glad we managed to have last night, just the four of us, because I know there will never be another night exactly like it. Thanks, guys, for calling me yesterday afternoon…