Time...

I have a new prized possession. Of course, its not new by any means...in fact, its quite old...some would say 'antique'. Now i'm not so much in to antiques per se, i think they're cool and all, but there are a few things within the scope of my ancestry that i'm definitely into. This being possibly the pinnacle of those items.

My grandfather, my mother's father, whom i've written briefly of before, was and is in my mind, not just a great man, he was a paladin, in every sense of the word. Of course, he would no doubt deny the title were he alive to do so, but that fact alone is what elevates him to that distinction...and i'm not the only one who thinks that.

Remember that old tune from Randy Travis 'He Walked on Water'...yeah well, that has alot of significance for me...

Looking back at the forty years i've spent on this sod, if i could change one thing, one solitary thing in my life, it would be to have been able to have spent more time with him...on his farm...in his world...sitting with him on his tractor...learning...wisdom.

Seven years, and most of that was those early formative years not conducive to memory, was not near enough time with such a man as he was. Had that time been available to me to procure some of the infinite wisdom within him...i would have considered myself far wealthier than i am. Do not misunderstand, i am certainly thankful for the time i did have with him...i'm certainly not angry for what was not...i only wish there were more.

So when my mom offered me 'the clock' a couple weeks ago. I nonchalantly said, "Well if you guys aren't using it..." of course inside the fireworks were going off. I couldn't hardly WAIT to get it home...because you see, this was Grampa's clock.

For years it sat on his desk by the front door. At night it was basically all you could hear in the house, unless the windows were open and you could hear an occasional thump of a diesel driven pump jack way off in the distance, a moo from a milk cow, or the coyotes yippin'. I can't tell you how many nights i lay listening to that old clock tick and chime the night away...and in the darkness, for a child, it was comforting, because i knew that Grampa was just a plaintive call away.

I don't really know much about the clock except that he bought it broken and took it home, spread it out on the kitchen table, put it back together and its worked ever since. But then, that was Grampa, if it was broke, he could fix it, if it needed built, he would build it, if it needed done...well you get it.

I told the Royals all about it, who's it was, where it came from, and what it meant to me now and what it meant to me when i was little like them...and of course the death threats if they touched it. They asked me for days when i was gonna wind it up and start it. You shoulda seen their faces light up when i finally pulled out the key, wound it up, and tipped the pendulum...and then it chimed...they were just giddy...or maybe that was me?

It was his...and that's all i really need to know (of course if you're reading this and you DO know more...hint hint Auntie). Now i can sit here and listen to it on those quiet nights...and i remember...

Ne Oublie