Submitted photo

My goal this year is to be happy and know peace inside and out. For each of us, peace may mean something different. And for sure, we each get there on our terms. Maintaining a peaceful balance amid change, which we are all experiencing, is essential to our well-being.

To maintain peace, I remember moments that have made me smile. This week I remembered my grandfather and his grandfather clock. He passed when I was five, but I remember him like he was here yesterday. And I remember he loved that grand clock. Perhaps, it was because, in a home of all women (his son passed when he was young), he had a kindred spirit with which he could see eye to eye as they both stood at a stately six foot, four inches tall. With its brass and ivory face, the mahogany encased clock stood in the corner between the fireplace and the baby grand piano.

Grampa had blue eyes and a full head of silvery gray hair. His kind smile let me know he loved me. I was always welcome to help him in his garden, play with Sport – his dog, and watch him tinker with anything electronic or had an engine. He would greet me at breakfast with, “Lillian, your pretty smile brings me joy.” We were kindred spirits.

At times I would catch him staring into the face of the grandfather clock, formerly referred to as the longcase clock until the song “My Grandfather’s Clock” inspired people to refer to these clocks as “grandfather.” I’m not sure what Grampa was thinking. Perhaps he was hoping to be inspired by those who came before him in their quest to keep accurate timing. He was always tinkering, so I suspect that was the most likely case. On the other hand, he had gold pocket watches harkening back to his days working on the train and a large mantle clock, so I surmise he was generally fascinated with time—something I inherited.

During the day, I barely noticed the clock chiming to mark each hour. But at night, I would sometimes awaken and wait for its pendulum voice to call with the time up the long staircase. Night and day, “tick, tock, tick tock, tick tock,” it would say as the pendulum swung back and forth. Each swing took the same length of time to complete, thus making for a nearly perfect marking of time and providing comfort in knowing it was faithful.

The face of the clock, which included a moon dial that kept pace with the lunar cycle, was protected by a glass window secured in a mahogany bonnet – the style of the top of the clock mimicked a lady’s bonnet. The hands were shiny black and the numerals were in a shiny metallic font. Its base was also mahogany, housed the brass pendulum, and was locked with a brass skeleton key. Occasionally, I saw Grampa take out his pocket watch and adjust the clock.

When my grandfather died, the clock died, too. I think it had a kindred soul with Grampa and died of a broken heart.

My Grandfather’s Clock

My Grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf, so it stood ninety years on the floor.

It was taller by half than the old man himself, ‘tho it weighed not a pennyweight more.

It was bought on the morn on of the day that he was born and was always his treasure and pride.

But it stopp’d short never to go again when the old man died. (Henry Clay Work 1876)