you know in ten years or twenty years i’m not going to remember the set lists or the bands (ok i’ll remember the bands tbh) but i’m never going to forget my dad driving me to the venues (he drove me 4 hours once to meet fob). i’m never going to forget him listening to me talk about the concert and the lyrics and the band members and listening as i happy cry about meeting them or what their lyrics mean to me
i’m never going to forget him waiting with me in lines for concerts that he doesn’t even have tickets for so that i wouldn’t be alone because he knows how anxious i get
i’m never going to forget what my dad has done for me
Have you ever thought about how much is available to you, to use and take in and enjoy, without needing to own them? Concerts, libraries, parks, a good joke, sunsets, the smell of freshly cut grass, soaking in the sun a lazy afternoon in August, or sharing a cup of coffee with someone you love on a still Sunday morning, watching the world wake up? And have you ever thought about the fact that memories, all your memories, are built on these things—things you don’t need to own. They are like the universe’s gift to us all, to enjoy. Like a present to celebrate you being here. How beautiful is that?