Sunday, July 8, 2012

My Dad's Bulova...

My watch stopped working yesterday. The watch is mine through inheritance, I guess, though no paper exists that shows an ownership transfer of this watch from its previous owner to me. Such a small item, a watch assembled in New York in the 1950's probably isn't worth enough to go through the trouble. My dad had a lot of cool watches. I think this was the last one that worked.

When watches like this stop, a battery won't fix them. Open up the watch and it's full of gears and springs, and jewels. My brother's brother-in-law actually fixes watches and clocks for a living. I think that would be a cool job.

I'd like to think I'll get the watched fixed, but I may not have the opportunity. And if I don't, yet another thing that was once my dad's will cease to be. It will go into a drawer or a box in the basement and be forgotten until it's happened upon one day or old items are cleaned out.

As the years tick on, there are fewer and fewer physical things that belonged to my father. The home he built has new shingles--yet another thing he touched has been replaced. All things will eventually disappear, all physical things, anyway. It was nice having the watch on my wrist to remind me of him.

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