The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Friday, July 7, 2017

Tommy's bell



The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
Has passed away
Or what is yet to be

Yeah the wars they will
Be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
Bought and sold
And bought again
The dove is never free

Ring the bells 
(ring the bells)
 that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything 
(there is a crack in everything)
That's how the light gets in


Yesterday this picture was received in cell phone video format - I "screen shot" it, ran it through an app (PRISMA) to render this which I think captures the spirit of the bell as well as any image might.  It was sent to me from the best man at my brother's wedding to his last wife - Tommy inherited the grandchildren, so dearly cherished, after a time during that last union.  I think those little relationships were valued as truly precious and appreciated by him.  He was estranged from his own daughter for reasons beyond my understanding, tangled as they were by the hasty shotgun wedding followed by a nasty divorce some several years later.  He wasn't to meet his grandson ... or the granddaughter who arrived after his death.  I think time would have restored that relationship ... but time ran out.  The absent father of a step-daughter found in what turned out to be his last years, or maybe it was grace, provided happy faced grandchildren to ring this bell in remembrance of their Papa Tom as they called him. His friend, the kids other granddad, hung Tommy's bell.  Very sweet.

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