There are moments in life when it truly feels like you’re creating memories.

Saturday night was this kind of precious moment, and possibly the last three days as well.

In 1996, Feng was discovering backpacking and Australia’s East Coast. This was three years before we met in Beijing—in 1996, I was 13 and I was busy dying my hair with henna, getting pierced and trying to decipher what Kurt Cobain was saying.

One day, Feng heard about a free concert on the forecourt of the Sydney Opera House. He didn’t know the band but being a broke twentysomething backpacker, he joined an estimated 250,000 people ready to hear the band’s “farewell to the world.”

The band was Crowded House and it was supposed to be their last concert ever.

Australia was a life-changing adventure for Feng and the concert was one of the highlights of the trip. He loved the music too.

Music is meant to be shared, so Feng introduced me to Crowded House and in turn, we introduced Mark to the band.

This explained why last Friday, we travelled to Toronto to see them playing at the Budweiser Stage—turns out Crowded House is still touring, it wasn’t a farewell to the world, after all.

This was Mark’s first concert ever. He had missed Bryan Adams (I was pregnant with him), the Rolling Stones (he was eight months old), and Tom Petty (too young to be learning to fly).

Mark was proud and excited to be coming.

“I’ll tell all of my friends!”

“Please, don’t.”

It was a lovely day but the night was chilly—some wishful thinking is required to attend an outdoor show in May in Canada. Whatever. It was otherwise a perfect evening and the three of us lost ourselves in the music.

Mark, if you’re reading this at 16 years old, remember that we are the cool parents who let you skip two days of school for a concert (and that mommy taught you how to use a lighter).