“My grandfather’s clock was too big for the shelf, so it stood 90 years on the floor. It was taller by half than the old man himself and it weighed not a penny weight more.”
At the start of my walk this morning with my dog, still in our yard, I heard the train’s whistle signaling its approach to the intersection a few miles from my home. It seemed really loud to me and I remember thinking that I hadn’t heard the train in a while although it does keep a schedule and I believe it passes through my sleepy little town twice a day (maybe it’s 4 times)– well, actually twice (4x?) in 24 hours because you can hear it in “the middle of the night.” While I was still standing in the driveway – taking in the sight of the morning sun lighting up the trees and waiting for my dog to sniff around – my neighbors appeared, to begin their daily walk. At 6:30 AM, we had all gotten a late start today and I’m grateful for the coincidental meeting between us. My neighbor, Terry, asked if I had just heard the whistle too. We both agreed that it seemed loud and close and that we hadn’t heard it in a while. Jack had heard it in the middle of the night though. Now, it makes me wonder if I’m just so used to hearing it that I really don’t notice it anymore – just now and then. Umm!
When we first built our house and moved in, almost 20 years to the day, my husband surprised me with a gorgeous grandfather clock that first Christmas in 1989. It graces our foyer still and was the perfect addition – along with the pricey Persian rug – to make our foyer complete. The clock has this lovely sounding chime that plays every quarter hour. Well, for the first week – all through the night – I was awoken every quarter hour by this “lovely chime.” 4 chimes at quarter past: 8 chimes at half past: 12 chimes at quarter to: and finally the full 16 chimes on the hour of course followed by the foreboding chimes in a minor key ringing out the time. 1AM! 2AM! 3AM in the freakin’ morning! Well after a week or two (I guess, I really don’t remember exactly – it was a long time ago and I’m all settled in now) instead of the clock’s lovely chimes snatching me out of a - not so deep, apparently – sleep, I started waking up every quarter hour just seconds before the chiming. Will I ever know a good night’s sleep again, I wondered? Well, I guess shortly after that I must have gotten used to it and never woke again to neither the chiming nor just prior to it.
I’m happy I have the clock. The chimes really are lovely – during the day. And I’m glad I heard the train’s whistle this morning. I don’t ever want to get so used to these things that I become oblivious or otherwise desensitized to it all.
Last year when my son was home from college on Christmas break I woke one morning to discover that the clock hadn’t wound down but the pendulum just hung still, rendering the chimes silent of course. This had been done at 2AM it seems. If only time could be stopped that easily I thought. When my son woke later that morning (I figured that he had stopped it because he probably was no longer used to the chiming and it kept him up.) I showed him how he could just slide a lever up, putting the chimes on silent but allowing the clock to continue ticking, still keeping time. Why I did not think of this years ago, I’ll never know!
“Hey Mom, remember when we first got this clock and you would sing that song to me, something like ‘My grandfather’s clock----,’ you used to sing it all the time, remember?”
“Yes,” I say, walking into the kitchen so he won’t see the tears that have suddenly welled up in my eyes. I wish turning back time could actually be done by turning the hands of my clock backwards.
“Yes, I remember,” I say, feeling glad that he remembers too and feeling thankful to be sharing this moment and memory with him now, some 20 years later.
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