3 on Thursday
Songs, stories, and things worth noticing. Every Thursday.
Thursday, August 13, 2026 · 2 min read
This month of 3 on Thursday is made possible by a generous longtime listener whose support helps me keep making and sharing new music and stories.
To learn about sponsoring a future issue, email me with SPONSORSHIP.
A quick welcome to some of the newest patrons: Jerry and Becky Rude in Minnesota, Pat Rosser in South Carolina, and Jennifer Setten in Florida. It’s been really encouraging to see this little group keep growing as we get closer to finishing the album. If you’ve been thinking about joining us, you can jump in here →
1. THE STORY
I am using a piece of technology. It does not exist, and maybe it never will. But I am using it in my imagination to rewind my life and watch it in reverse.
I am trying to remember the last time I picked up my son August.
He just turned twelve, so I know it has been a while. But it bothers me that I do not know.
I suppose there are many lasts like this—lasts that, if we recognized them while they were happening, might make it impossible to move forward. The pain would be too much.
But I just want to see it.
I’m sure it was ordinary. Perhaps I carried him to bed from the living room after he had fallen asleep. Maybe it was when he still used a car seat. I just don’t know.
And what would I have said or done if I had known?
Maybe I would have held him longer. Maybe I would have said goodbye to that chapter and thanked him for letting me be his dad, and for letting me hold him.
But he wouldn’t have understood. The tears I would cry—the ones I am crying now—might only have frightened him. And perhaps the worst part is that I would not have been able to let go. I would still be standing there, holding him, both of us now too frightened to move on.
And so I think I have come to understand that the not knowing is a gift.
The not knowing it is the last time.
Love,
Aaron
2. LISTEN
The complete upcoming album is now available to hear in the Listening Room, before it is mixed and mastered. Listen here →
3. NOTICE
It doesn’t have to be sad or serious, but I’m curious: Is there something you’ve realized recently is no longer a part of your life?
Some ordinary thing that, now that you’ve noticed its absence, makes you think about life a little differently?
Hear the upcoming album: Enter the Listening Room
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