Sentimental Journey

For reasons unknown to me, I have always had a thing for grandfather clocks. I was fascinated with the one in The Land of Make Believe on "Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood." I used to play with the one in my doll house for hours and imagine it chiming. I’ve just always loved them and wanted one in my house.

Part of this might have to do with the both of my grandmothers. My mom’s mom used to sing me a song called “My grandfather’s clock,” that I loved. My dad’s mom had a grandfather clock in her house. When I was little and would stay all night, I’d lay in the twin bed in the guestroom and listen for it to chime. I loved knowing what time it was by how many chimes rang in the middle of the night.

When we moved into our house a couple of years ago, we talked about getting our own clock for the entryway. Instead we bought a water softener and installed a patio. Priorities.

A few years ago, my grandparents down-sized and their clock went to live with my Aunt Sue. As most of you know, my Aunt Sue passed away a few weeks ago after a short battle with a very aggressive cancer. My cousin Annie called to tell me they thought I should have my great, great, great grandmother’s china. Great! I didn’t want to ask where the clock was going at a time like that, but I was afraid it might wind up with someone outside our family. So, sheepishly I asked where it was going.

Annie is not one to hold back. She always tells it like it is, so I should have known better than to feel funny about asking. I just didn’t want to seem like a vulture. She said, “Why? Do you want it?! Take it! I hate that thing and Monte (her brother) doesn’t have room for it! It’s yours! When can you take it? It makes the corner look cluttered.”

So, when I went to the memorial service, we loaded the clock into the Tahoe and brought it home. My grandpa disassembled it for my drive home. Three seconds into my drive, I realized it was going to be a noisy ride. The hammers hit the chimes every time I hit a bump. It was annoying and oddly comforting at the same time. The chimes sounded just like I remembered, while the clock looked nothing like I remembered.

On Monday, my new friend Clark from the Noblesville Clock Company,

which is every bit as cute as it sounds, came to set up my old friend. Clark told me the clock is definitely German and probably around 100 years old. My grandparents bought it in an antique store in the late 60’s, and knew very little about it. My grandma just liked it, so they bought it and I’m so glad they did.

Here’s the funny part about the clock and my house. I think they were made for each other.

When our builder was building the house, he inexplicably built this weird area that was too tiny to be the coat closet it was supposed to be, and too large for an art niche. Guess what fits there perfectly? I couldn’t really get a good picture of it, because the angles are just too weird. You just have to trust me that it looks really great.

The ole clock sounds great too. It chimes every fifteen minutes and on the hour. After one night of leaving it on, I decided to turn off the chimes before going to bed. The kids absolutely love it. Meredith lies in front of it with a pillow and waits for it to chime. Alex has already claimed it as an heirloom when they put me out to pasture.

The chimes are loud and echo on our hardwoods. I wouldn’t want it any other way. It sounds like I’m nine years old and sleeping over at my grandparents’ house.