Singing of the Bells

An old friend sent me a gift in the mail.  Some of my old Army buddies have been finding me on FaceBook (and the cats), and from time to time they come into town, and we catch up.  My last conversation was with a friend I use to go on bike trips with (motor and pedal bikes).  We traveled all of Europe, up Australia and around New Zealand, parts of Canada and of course the U.S.  He still rides, but doesn't trek around as he uses to.  He was troubled a bit when he heard about my vision loss and like many friends who hadn't see me in awhile worried that I was becoming a disheveled cat lady.  After a good dinner and a few beers, I seemingly convince most that despite the inconvenience of it I was okay (and f^ck U for even believing for a moment I would be disheveled).  Most evenings end with Hugs and kisses and promises to stay in touch, and this was just that.

That was about a month ago.

As I was going out to hop on my Vanpool, I remembered I didn't check Mom's mailbox yesterday.  I just shoved the mail into my backpack and went to work. Remembering it a few hours later I open a padded envelope to find a Gordian Bell.  It's a biker superstition.  It uses to be that if a biker crashed, they had to put a bell on their repaired or new bike.  Some say is was a shaming from the pack, but later it came to represent a fairy guardian meant to keep one protected.  In Judaism, the priest of the temple had bells sewn into their vestment robes.  People would leave the room hearing the sound like a call for the priest to be allowed to commune with G*d in prayer in private. His note just said, "to keep you safe."


Let hope it works on all of those levels.  Happy Friday everyone.

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