Letter bombs of a wonderful sort

I went to check my mail today.

There's a game of 'Assassin' currently in progress, and apparently one of the rules this time around is that your assassin can try to kill you with a "letter bomb" - an innocent-looking piece of mail that informs you that you have been killed by the assassin. I understand that there is some sort of procedure you may take to diffuse the letter bomb so that you can look upon it and live. Ordinarily you 'kill' people by touching them with a sock on your hand and saying their full name to tell them that they've been killed.

I'm not playing, but I've been thinking of walking around with a sock on my hand just to make people nervous.

Sometimes they mis-file mail and I get other peoples' letters. I was thinking to myself, as I approached my box, that it would be amusing to get someone else's letter bomb. I opened my box and ... lo and behold: among the other more standard envelopes, something small and custom-made - two of them - notes from a friend.

If possible, I would like to see the instant replay of myself opening the note while walking, reading it and stopping for a moment, then subtly crumpling and crying.

I almost wished that someone would notice and ask me why I was crying so that I could tell them that I'd just gotten something wonderful in the mail.
No one did.

Among the things that make me cry, I think one is the recognition of significance. Sometimes I look for it, sometimes it finds me. But, when it's close enough - in some strange reverse-dowsing - it draws the water out of me through my eyes.

It was that beautiful.

If you've sent me something thoughtful, especially in the last 5 years or so, I've probably cried at it.




p.s.
Today is my great-grandma's birthday.
Or - it would be if she were still alive.
Her birthday is a permutation of mine,
and she lived to be 104 during one whole century and pieces of two others.
She almost made it to be 105.