As Paul McCartney played the first chords of “Let it Be” inside Nationwide Arena Nov. 8, I began to choke up.

The song has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and I was singing along with my arm looped through my mom’s. A longtime fan of The Beatles, she let me play her albums on a combination 8-Track/record player in our living room when I was a kid.

Some moments immediately embed themselves in your brain as a core memory. Singing that song with my mom while watching Paul McCartney — THE Paul McCartney — play it on a piano was one of them. It was a memory neither of us would have ever imagined creating.

For most of my life, I’ve heard a story about The Beatles that goes something like this.

My mom was the only kid in her elementary school class who wasn’t allowed to stay up and watch the Ed Sullivan Show when The Beatles performed for the first time in 1964. Her babysitter told her about it later. (No, she’s not still irritated by the only weekend she can ever remember not watching the show with her family more than 60 years later.)

As I watched her watch McCartney play hits like “I’ve Just Seen a Face” and “Get Back,” I could only imagine the memories going through her mind. The times she heard those songs or played the albums with her friends.

I had the same thought about the man everyone was there to see. With photos of his children, former bandmates and friends on the screens around him, the 83-year-old McCartney was physically present but where was he mentally? It would be almost impossible not to have memories flood in.

McCartney took time during his nearly three-hour show to honor both John Lennon and George Harrison, playing songs written by and for them as photos were shown on the screen. As part of his encore, McCartney even sang with a recording of John, which he said made him happy because it was like he was singing with his childhood friend again.

McCartney spoke affectionately about his bandmates, telling stories about how they wrote some of their hit songs, how The Beatles heard The Jimi Hendrix Experience perform in a mostly empty pub, casually name-dropping Eric Clapton and Pete Townsend, and how he played “Something” with George Harrison on a ukulele while at Harrison’s house. He then performed that song for the Columbus audience with a ukulele Harrison had gifted him.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Famer also talked about how The Beatles refused to play a show in Jacksonville after learning the audience would be segregated, which the Fab Four felt was “stupid.” After assurances the audience would be integrated, McCartney said the band played the show and then had integrated crowds written into future contracts.

As he talked, it felt like listening to a grandparent sharing stories of special memories. McCartney spoke to the audience like he was talking to friends. He even took time to read signs in the audience, including one from a fan that said it was his 143rd time seeing McCartney perform. The response: “Now that’s a little obsessive.”

Another sign included a request for McCartney to sign someone’s posterior, drawing a cheeky response of “Let’s see it.”

While there were moments the 83-year-old walked slower, or sat at the piano to get off his feet, the energy, stamina and joy McCartney brought to the stage were incredible. He played the (numerous) guitars he used like his fingers were decades younger. How his vocal chords have survived the high notes, growls and yells of more than 60 years should be studied by scientists. Small dance moves, kicks, jam sessions on the guitar with the members of his backing band, the fun McCartney clearly has as he’s performing clearly transfers to the audience.

And he couldn’t let the show end without a bit of the rockstar treatment. A pyrotechnic-filled performance of “Live and Let Die,” that made both my mom and me jump, was sandwiched between possibly the best song ever written, “Let It Be,” and the best sing-along song in history, “Hey Jude.”

As I stood next to my mom, singing the words to those songs that have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, I cried. I never would have thought I’d have the opportunity to sing the “na-na-na-na, hey Jude” in the same space as Paul McCartney, and definitely not with my mom.

Looking around the arena, we weren’t the only parent and child attending together. There were people from every generation. The teenagers screaming at concerts in the 1960s were now there with their children and grandchildren. A couple of rows away, people had brought their two children, who looked like they were in elementary school.

Watching those kids dance and sing along reminded me of the true power of McCartney and The Beatles. I was standing next to a woman who bought the “Meet the Beatles” album as a kid and passed the music on to me. Those parents were doing the same thing, gifting the magic of a musical catalog that stands the test of time to the next generation.

And McCartney’s “See you next time” to close the show is a glimmer of hope that maybe that generation will see him tour again.

I asked my mom for her instant review as we left the arena. She said she enjoyed the tributes to George and John, hearing songs she hadn’t thought about in years and seeing someone she has appreciated the musicality of for decades.

But it came down to something even more simple.

“If I could talk to Paul McCartney, even briefly, I would just want to say thank you for all the joy he and his music have brought to the world,” she said.

Thank you indeed, Paul. We’ll see you next time.