I did not experience fatherhood until I was one month shy of my 40th birthday. My wife and I now have four children (one girl and three boys), the oldest of whom is 10. On the list of life’s great revelations, the enormity of parenthood ranks an uncontested number 1.

I’m not talking about the challenges of an infant and all the profound changes that a newborn brings. I mean raising human beings to love; to be honest, curious and polite; to have fun; to deal with setbacks and learn from them; to find the right role models, the right kinds of friends, the right books; to possess a sense of civic and philanthropic duty. The love I have for my children is unlike anything I could have imagined, as is the burden of responsibility and care.

I do so many things wrong in life. But I am determined not to screw up parenting (which, of course, doesn’t mean that I won’t). As demanding as Goldman Sachs can be (measured in both time and travel dimensions), I have become a maniacal “scheduler in advance.” As I write this, I know that our children’s school lets out for holiday break at 12:30 P.M. on Friday and that we will have dinner with my in-laws that evening in Virginia Beach. School plays, big games, and big tests are always on the calendar, and almost always take precedent.

I also try to “block” business-related travel as much as I can. I would rather be gone for a cluster of days than a day here and a day there. I describe my trips to the gang at home as best I can, giving them some color about where I am and what I’m doing. And I’m always sure to remind them of an upcoming vacation and fun events planned.

Somebody told me that family meals together are necessary to the healthy development of a child. I have no proof to support that notion, but we are disciples of it, nonetheless. We have a blast at the dinner table. We do the daily recap, discuss sports news, have political chats, go over school stuff, learn the word of the day. The idea of family time and food feels right.

When it comes to issues of teamwork and enforcing rules, I must tip my cap to the mighty Goldman Sachs. Not that banking is remotely akin to parenting, but the concept that many together are stronger than the sum of their individual strengths holds true in both settings. The value of an apprentice culture, and the idea that taking the time to get it right is always better than speedy sloppiness are other relevant maxims that Goldman Sachs and good parenting have in common.

To say that, with our oldest at the ripe age of 10, my wife and I have figured everything out would be laughable. (Stop laughing.) Our book on parenting is not forthcoming. But when I was considering which topics to address in this piece, the ink flowed without prompting toward our children. Not all the hours I spend in politics and political fundraising. Not any of the handful of venture investments I’ve made. Not the range of philanthropic organizations about which I care deeply. Not even my 20-plus year run at Goldman Sachs, without which I would have very little. Because on my tombstone, I don’t want to have words like “rate of return,” “capital campaign” or “outperformance.” But I do hope there will be words like “loving” and “father.”