A Knock At The Door

One of my favorite scenes from the Hobbit Is the knock at the door when the dwarves keep showing up at Bilbo's home. Something totally unexpected which totally shakes up Bilbo's life/world. Today I feel I have a similar experience. The day after the Fourth of July and I'm relaxing in my apartment contemplating cutting the watermelon that I purchased for the Fourth of July which I'd never got around to cutting. I just finished doing a word puzzle and was about ready to head in the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. I'm one of those folks who seldom answers the door I usually just shout “Come in!”. Then astoundingly I hear a voice I had not heard for years saying “hi, it's me Kell!”, With that the door opened and in stepped my old friend Kelly or KC. I wasn't shocked or amazed that seemed natural for KC to be standing in my kitchen holding a plate of something in his hand. Kelly didn't seemed anymore surprised that my reaction that I felt. It's all so natural.

I've written about Kelly before in this blog. He and I met when we were at University living in the same dormitory, Chafee Hall on the Boise State University campus. I don't know what drew us together but we became close on campus and later as roommates when we shared an apartment. It's hard to believe that more than 30 years more like 40. It's a long and winding road and we've lost track of each other often on. But we sort of kept a connection. We went our ways, had our families, careers, heartbreaks and reboots but we've always been there for each other if and when we needed each other. I've always appreciated that in my buddy, Kelly. We have grown old now, I much more so than he. He is the definite young guy when we are side-by-side. But here he was, smiling his KC smile holding a paper plate in his hand like a wayward home teacher. The paper plate held a piece of cherry pie and it was covered by another paper plate a hastily contrived platform for transporting precious cargo. Kelly had read yesterday's post in the blog, the one where I whined about cooking my individual meal for myself on the holiday and it broke his heart. Oh, he would never admit that it broke his heart but I know it did, he has a big heart. Kelly is another part of the state not terribly far away but far enough but he has kids along the Wasatch front which mandates him coming into this part of fallen Zion every once in a while. Kelly made time to go out of his way to bring me a piece of pie for my holiday meal. He knew I made enough sloppy Joe and potato salad to last for days so whenever he got my dessert it would be just right the following of my holiday meals. I am one lucky guy is no question about it.…