My father had a kinaesthetic watch, one that is powered by movement. When he died it stopped; I inherited it and strapped it around my wrist. It began ticking again within the day, but the thing that drove it, my father's heart beat, could never be replaced. I could read the time from it, but could never stop thinking of my father whenever I did. It felt as though I had stolen time from him; like I had taken his heartbeat straight from his chest. It wasn't mine to read. It now lies in a draw in my bureau, silent. It's no longer a watch; it's now a memorial to my father's spirit, its original power source and meaning can never be replaced, and with the passage of the time it marks it has changed and become something more than just a time peace.
Like the headdress of the Native American, sitting in a display cabinet in a British museum, my father's watch is an epitaph to a time and spirit not so much lost, as remarkably changed; evolved to something new. It can be worn by anyone, but the spirit it belongs to and the notion it embodies can never be replaced. Wearing my father's watch means I can read the time, but I will never see my father again.
My father left me a kinaesthetic watch, powered by movement, by life. When he died it stopped. I strapped it to my wrist. It began ticking again within the day, but I am not him. My father's heartbeat that drove his watch was gone. I could read the time, but I thought only of my father when I did. I had stolen time straight from his chest and it wasn't mine to read. So the watch lies in a draw in my bureau, silent. It's no longer a watch; it's a memorial to my father's spirit, and with the passing of the time it marks it has become something more, something sacred.
ReplyDeleteYellow Calf's headdress, lays in a box in a Bristol museum, hidden like a secret. An epitaph to a time and a spirit gone forever. Objects gathering dust. When I wore my father's watch I could read time, but I will never see my father again.