As Christmas gets near, it is time to put up the tree and pull out the old box of lights that has served us many years. The storage box has a special history of its own. It has shared many Christmas pasts we just cannot seem to part with it. My daughter tells me it will be around after I am long gone.
The best part of Christmas is just before it starts. When all preparations are done, or it’s too late to worry about them, when the mess from decorationing cleaned up around the room, you can sit down close your eyes and let old memories of Christmas past warm your heart like a nice cup of hot chocolate as you revisit special times from long ago.
I have told this story at least one time in memories from the past, but it is a story worth telling again.
If Brother “Rod” were alive, he would have celebrated his 67th birthday this December 3… we lost him to cancer 19 years ago. He was the first of my siblings to die. His death left the family in terrible pain we felt he had only begun to live. His earlier years were filled with trouble, however the past few before his death he seemed to have found his path for better times.
Rod was single and traveled around a lot when he became ill with cancer and with little hope to win his battle he returned home to be with family that cared for him through his ordeal.
After his death, going through his belongings at our mother’s home, we came across a box filled with pieces of a broken clock. He came by the clock from a family member while he lived in Florida. The clock needed to be repaired, which Rod planned to do, but each move he took the box with the broken pieces with him.
He showed the broken Boston clock, circa 1850-1860 to the family and told them the value of the clock and its history. Time ran out on Rod and his intensions. Mom asked me to take the old clock and dispose of it for her.
When our daughter saw it and heard the story, she took it to a clock smith, she knew it could be restored.The clock smith said he would need time to repair the inner workings, but he felt he could have it running .Our daughter said nothing to me about the repair of the clock thinking it would be a perfect Christmas gift.
Her gift to us went far beyond the repair of Rod’s old clock. She knew Rod valued the oldtime – piece, she was touched seeing how beautiful it looked and hearing the sweet sound of the chimes. She wrote a poem in memory of Rod.
The Old Broken Clock, by Dorothy Lopp; You handed me a box full of many pieces of an old broken clock. A clock that was treasured by one with broken dreams, and too little time.
Now keeping time, ticking like his heartbeat, the old broken clock is whole again.
With each chime, we will be reminded of the one who treasured the old broken clock. He valued it and knew one day its chime would ring out.He was right. It is a beautiful keeper of our time. The old clock is one broken dream we were able to piece together for him. May we be reminded of him and how precious time truly is for us all when we see his old clock. Do as he did and enjoy each day. Also, give a kind word to all you meet. We touch others daily we leave lasting impressions of some sort. These impressions last as long as the time the old broken clock now keeps.