Seers and forks

My mother made a confession:

She hid a fork in my purse.

I wouldn’t call her a superstitious person, but every few years, when things get rough, she likes to visit the fortune teller. I think it’s more of a verbal reassurance for her that everything will be all right rather than because she actually believes it will come true.

I guess my decision to abandon the clinical health track rattled her more than she let on. The fortune teller told her not to worry because even though I would soon be facing a major life change, once it was over, I would come back and settle down into a nice life. The one piece of advice she did give my mother was that I should always carry metal with me as it would provide protection.

My mother’s solution was to throw a fork in my purse.

She told me all this with a sheepish laugh as she asked if I found it.

I did open my purse at one point and wonder when I put a fork in there. Funny thing is even though I took the fork out before I left for Ukraine, I did carry my hot pink survival knife with me at all times. I came back home safe and sound and found an awesome job soon thereafter.

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