08/06/2026
A few days ago, I didn't even know what a "God Pack" was.
What started as a simple trip to Japan to buy a few Pokémon cards for my son, Arman, slowly turned into something much more meaningful.
We opened our first packs together. We celebrated every shiny card. We learned what sleeves, top loaders, ARs, SARs, and even God Packs were. Yesterday, we even went to a Pokémon card show together to learn more about the hobby and meet fellow collectors.
To many people, these are just pieces of cardboard.
But to me, every card in our collection tells a story.
The card we pulled when Arman jumped up in excitement. The pack we opened after a long day. The God Pack that we were lucky enough to find. The conversations we had while sorting cards together and learning about a hobby neither of us knew much about just a few days ago.
Somehow, out of all the cards we opened, we were fortunate enough to pull some of the cards that many collectors dream of finding, including the Pikachu Forest card and the Mega Dragonite from our God Pack.
Will these cards be worth more in the future? Maybe.
Will some of them get graded? Probably.
In fact, our plan might be to keep one or two of the most meaningful cards, and if we're fortunate enough to sell some of the others in the future, use the proceeds to buy a small gold bar.
Not because of the investment value.
But because that gold bar would represent a memory.
A reminder of the season when a father and son sat together opening Pokémon packs, learning about collecting, getting excited over every pull, and creating memories that money alone can never buy.
One day, Arman may outgrow Pokémon.
One day, these cards may no longer be our hobby.
But perhaps that little gold bar will still be there decades later, reminding us of the time when a simple pack of cards brought us closer together.
Because at the end of the day, the real treasure was never the Pikachu, the Dragonite, or even the God Pack.
The real treasure was the time spent together.
And that's something truly priceless.