Church

 "Your flag flyin' over the courthouse

Means certain things are set in stone.

Who we are, what we'll do and what we won't"

It was this moment that I looked over at my son, taking in Bruce Springsteen singing "The Long Walk Home" for us and a few thousand of our new closest friends, imparting the words of a father to a son. I had made peace with the fact that he might spend a little time peering at his phone, but not at this moment. He was staring directly down at the stage where that beacon of hope and dreams was giving us his all.

There were tears in his eyes. 

And I felt so lucky to be there with him. 

After the show, walking with his mother and I, he explained his phone distraction. "I was looking up the songs on Wikipedia. I wanted to remember them and what they were about." 

And I felt so lucky to be there with him. 

Like those moments when we walk under the trestle in Disneyland, stepping out onto Main Street, and looking over to see his smile. In these moments, I can see our bond. I used to worry about dragging my family out to see Bruce Springsteen each time he would come around on tour. 

I'm not worried anymore. All the magic that is carried in those songs, in those words, they have been passed along. They live on in his heart and his soul. 

In the row in front of us, a younger version of the father and son dynamic was taking place. Dad was up, singing and dancing, then sitting down briefly to cajole his son into the music of this night. I silently wished them the same success I have had. 

We have had. It's gonna be a long walk home, but at least I know we'll be going there together.