Over the holiday weekend I took my seven-year-old daughter, Faye, to her first concert at MetLife Stadium, just outside New York City. We saw Ed Sheeran with Macklemore as the opening act. They're two artists we both love, and she knows all the words to most of their hits.
I'd been looking forward to her first show ever since I became a dad. Music has been a huge part of my life for as long as I can remember, and I want the same for my girls. I listen to grunge, hip-hop, classic rock, neoclassical, jam bands, and everything in between. It's always playing in the car, in the kitchen while we cook, and in the living room while we goof around.
When we arrived, Faye didn’t want to go in. The stadium loomed ahead, with crowds streaming toward the gates, and she was scared. I told her we didn’t have to go in and could leave whenever she was ready.
I wanted to give her some time to acclimate, so we opened the car’s rear hatch and she sat in the back playing Toca Boca on my iPad. She eventually saw some kids her age heading toward the gates and began to relax. When she was ready, we walked in, her hand gripping mine and her earmuffs around her neck.
Faye spent most of the show standing on her seat with her arms around my neck. During our favorite song, "Castle on the Hill," we sang along with Ed and eighty-five thousand screaming fans. Every few lines we'd turn to each other, mouthing the words with huge grins on our faces.
I was trying to soak up every second. I didn't want the concert to end.
About ninety minutes into the set, Faye turned to me.
"Dada, I'm tired. Can we go?"
My heart sank, but I didn't push back. It had already been a perfect day.
As we started down the stairs toward the concourse, Ed began playing "Photograph." Just before we walked out, an usher tapped me on the shoulder and asked if he could take our picture together. With the stage behind us, we smiled for the camera, cheek to cheek.
Back in the car, with Faye wrapped in a blanket, I put on James Taylor's "You Can Close Your Eyes." This was the first song I played for her when we brought her home from the hospital. She was asleep before we hit the New Jersey Turnpike. I kept checking the mirror the whole ride back with Macklemore's "Good Old Days" stuck in my head.
I can't believe I get to be this little girl's dad.