Some months back, one of my brothers gave me a photograph of Dad with his WW2 battalion. I'm guessing the photo was taken in 1942 or 1943. Dad is in the front row, second from the left. Our long time family friend Garth (no long living) is in the second row from the back, fifth from the left.
This week I finally got around to having the photo framed; I picked it up from the frame shop at lunch time. My vehicle was about a five minute walk away, and as I walked I carried the photo in my hands. All of a sudden it started vibrating. I can't explain it exactly, but it almost felt like a cell phone on vibrate. I stopped in my tracks, adjusted it in my hands, and started walking again. Less than a minute later, it began vibrating again. It did this two more times before I reached the car.
I have no explanation for what happened, but I know Garth loved that old photo, and I wondered if he was hanging around, excited that I had a copy of the picture.
This week I finally got around to having the photo framed; I picked it up from the frame shop at lunch time. My vehicle was about a five minute walk away, and as I walked I carried the photo in my hands. All of a sudden it started vibrating. I can't explain it exactly, but it almost felt like a cell phone on vibrate. I stopped in my tracks, adjusted it in my hands, and started walking again. Less than a minute later, it began vibrating again. It did this two more times before I reached the car.
I have no explanation for what happened, but I know Garth loved that old photo, and I wondered if he was hanging around, excited that I had a copy of the picture.
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