Posted in Faith, Family

The Clock on the Wall

When I was 25, I had a birthday party.  Just a family party.  Nothing out of the ordinary, we celebrate birthdays until we die and my mom goes all out.  My grannie was there.  My dad was there.  Neither of which are here anymore.  My dad got me several presents.  He never really knew how to shop and this could have been the last birthday that he physically bought and wrapped presents.  Later it became money, which was appreciated just as much but not as nearly as sentimental.

One of the gifts he gave me was a clock.  Just a wall clock, nothing fancy.  It has a pendulum and it chimes on the hour.  It probably cost him $19.99, maybe even $14.99 from Walmart.  We talking 13 years ago.  It’s moved with me and always hung in a prominent place in the living room.  It takes 4 AA batteries to get it to work.  Two for the tick tock part, and two for the chimes.  I haven’t had batteries in the chiming part for a long time.  I can’t even remember the last time it chimed. I’m sure I didn’t have enough batteries to change out, and only replaced the two for tick tocking.

This past weekend, it stopped.  Like most clocks, it slowed down at first, began losing time, then the second hand just stood on the number ten and twitched for a while before it completely shut down.   Like a slow death.  Like a person dying.  First they slow down, then began losing some of their function, and then they just seem to hang on for a long time, like the second hand on the number ten before they’re gone.  Just gone.

Today, I dug some AA batteries out of my big gallon jug appropriately labeled “batteries” and took the clock off the wall.  I began the simple task, or what I thought would be, of getting a clock to run again.  I had to pry the old batteries out with a butter knife, then replace with new ones.  Nothing happened.  I pried them out again, checking that they were in the right direction, nothing.  I dug through my gallon jug for different batteries, replaced them and still….nothing.  I wiggled the silver parts that hold the batteries in place, I jiggled different things, nothing was working.

And then I was hit with emotion.  Wham!  Bam!  It took me completely by surprise and waylaid me.  My heart started to hurt, tears began to well up.  I took a deep breath and did some internal talking trying to make sense of why this was so upsetting to me.  It’s just a clock.  But on the flip side, it’s not just a clock.  It’s a clock that I like, and my dad gave it to me.  And that, my friends, put me into a tail spin.  My mind began racing, tears flowing, fingers still using a butter knife to place and replace batteries in a clock, trying to find the meaning, the symbolism in all this.  One more thing of my dad’s that’s gone?  Lost time?  Am I losing time?  Am I wasting time?  What does this mean?  Why is this wrecking me right now?

I sat the clock down on the kitchen table and walked off.  I had to get a grip.  But my steps took me to the living room where I instinctively looked at the wall and saw the bare spot where it hung.  I went back to the kitchen.  I needed something to eat.  Eating would stop the shaking.  I popped two pieces of bread in the toaster, but couldn’t leave it alone.  I went back into the utility room and pulled the jug of batteries off the shelf.  Rummaging through all the triple A’s and the C’s, I found my last two double A batteries.  I said a prayer, please God let this work.  I need help.

I put the batteries in, and the clock began to tick.  It began to tock.  Relief swept over me.  I looked up and said, Thank you Jesus.  Thank you.

I then put two of the batteries that were not working in the chiming part, and it began to chime.  I will never allow it not to chime again.

I hung it back on the wall, my wall of favorite things.

IMG_0703

The clock from my dad, with the family prayer plaque from our dear friends Brad and Suzanne.  The cross was given to me by my sweet friend Mrs. Z.  The dog on the bed picture was something I bought for myself from JC Penney.  I paid $109 for it when I was in college and it nearly broke me.  My dad gave me the cedar chest.  My sister and family gave me the old red truck, and I’m going to have one like it someday.  The little church was bought with some money from my Aunt Bert after she sold us our house in Texas.

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Author:

I’m Angel, a.k.a. Rocket Surgeon, and these are my chronicles. I love writing and I believe our stories should be shared, so here you’ll find anecdotes of my life, loves, worries, fears, joys, and experiences. I blog about my mishaps and adventures as a wife, mommy, auntie, wanna-be writer, teacher, Texan, country/city/mountain girl, cereal killer and Jesus-freak. A few things you might discover about me: •Jesus is my everything; without Him I am nothing, but with him I can do all things •My family makes this world a better place for me to live in •I adore chickens, the live ones, although the cooked ones aren’t too bad either •I have 2 dogs: Grace and Ozzie. And one cat: Rocky Muffin •My dream job would be to raise chickens and write best sellers Thanks for stopping by. Kick off your shoes and stay awhile. I know your time is valuable and I honor you for spending a few moments here with me. I hope you find something to brighten your day, lighten your load, make you chuckle and remind you of the good in the world. “When you look for the bad in mankind, expecting to find it, you surely will." Pollyanna I’m always eager to meet new online friends, so leave a comment and introduce yourself.

5 thoughts on “The Clock on the Wall

  1. Love your “wall of treasures”! They will become even more meaningful as you get older … trust me! I only wish I had learned that lesson earlier in my life! Your story about your clock is just precious and I so know that feeling !! Several years ago my husband brought me this beautiful “grandfather” clock for Christmas. It “chimes” at the quarter hour/half hour and then the hour. Through the years, he has ALWAYS taken care of the winding, the keys, etc. for this clock. I just enjoyed that chimes, and have taken it for granted. Recently he was in the hospital for some emergency surgery and while I was home alone, I suddenly realized the clock had not chimed for several hours!! I had no clue what to do and I found myself sitting on the loveseat crying because I had not taken the time to learn about this beautiful gift he had given me. However, I think the REAL gift he gave me, was the maintenance and his time every few days to be assured that the clock worked properly. The little things in life are the ones we have a tendency to overlook .. don’t you agree? I now know how to wind the clock and I treasure the lovely chimes each time it plays! … Until next time .. Donna

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