I went to a concert last night. The Weepies. When they played this song I nearly lost it, I nearly spread a puddled mess of sobs and snot right there in the middle of the show. It would have been a safety hazard.
Hearing a song like this, about a father and his young kid, does something to me now. It sets the whole world on my chest, all the beauty and unfairness and potential and hope and life out there spinning around, it sets it all on my chest. It’s heavy. It’s heartache.
My love for my son is heartache. It’s heavy and deep like a rod that goes through me down into the center of the earth. I spin with it. Most of the time it’s the cute stuff… but other times, like when I heard this song, it’s this sorrowful gravity, a pressure, like someone set the world on your chest but didn’t give you an upgraded body to handle it.
That’s what it’s like being a dad. I think you’ll like this:
If you’re a dad, I suspect you understand what this song’s about… and what this gravity-heartache is like. You can’t go back now. Walk on.