memento of a lost parent

I've had this key ring since I was 19.
(Pause for effect.)
I've had it, and used it constantly, since 1977, when I received it from Mama as part of my birthday package. I was in the Navy, attending school in the great hairy armpit of the world. The best part about being in that locale was its proximity to Chicago. I could ride the train and be back in civilization in an hour. I did, too, every weekend.
The key ring was called a Jeans Ring, according to the little round, brass disc attached to the ring. It was designed to be easily hung on a beltloop, so you could jingle jangle around as you walked. How very COOL was that! Totally fabulous!!!
I still like to hang it on a beltloop and deliberately swish a bit more when I walk, making my own music as a I travel in the halls, down the sidewalk, around town. You bet!
Very fun!
I'm always reminded of a nursery rhyme that goes something like this:
with rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes.
Ahem.
Let's get back on topic, shall we?
So, my friend Thomas has a special key ring, roo. It had belonged to his dad.
An outstanding member of the League of Savannah Bloggers, Thomas wrote recently about that key ring. I say "recently", meaning "sometime this calendar year". I've been meaning to address his post for ... um, almost three months??? ... but clearly have not yet.
I had tried unsuccessfully to post a comment of support for his musings, but the site would not allow.
That's okay. I have other ways to contact that friend. And I did.
And I encouraged him to maybe add a photo, for posterity, for memory's sake.
And he did.
It's been twenty years since he first used that key ring. Well, I keep saying "key ring", but he is acutally only talking about the key fob, not the ring itself. His dad, who must have worked at Gulfstream, had received the fob to commemorate the flight of a special plane. The fob actually CONTAINS a disc of metal which had been PART of that plane. Very special!
In December, which marked the end of the second decade of his dad's passing, Thomas didn't reattach the fob when it fell off the key ring. He hasn't discarded the item, but it no longer rides in his pocket daily.
Maybe, in another eight years, I'll have that distance from death.