This week's Theme Thursday leads to an interesting phenomenon, the marking of time. Humans have watches, clocks, timepieces and even calendars denoting hours, minutes, days and months that frame the events and even the people of significance in our lives.
I, for example, possess several watches. One is a registered Omega bearing the time that my mother removed it shortly before her death. Another belongs to my dearly missed granddad. Well-worn but still ticking away, it occupies a special place in my heart and home. Yet a third rested on the wrist of my dad nearly every day of his time with my mother and me. I have memories of his wrist, the pale outline marked the infrequent absences of that watch visible in the waves at the beach, stark in contrast to his waders, or marking the end of a tan earned while building and baiting crab traps, or collecting sea shells.
The beautiful floor-to-ceiling clock that graced the more formal portion of my parents home, chiming in holidays, punctuating the eeriness of my mother's return to their home a widow following what was supposed to have been a second honeymoon, and lending its steady beat beneath many a roiling argument, now sits a silent sentinel in my small apartment, two changes of house stilling its once faithful rhythm. Its face is pictured above.
Perhaps I can restore its timbre...
