Click-Clock

Some people have a blanket, I used to have Hermie … but I’ll always have Click-Clock.



As a child I remember falling asleep in the Lake Forest House to the subtle sound of Click-Clock, my grandfather’s clock. Over the years as sleep and I have had a relationship that follows the pattern of my love-life Click-Clock has remained constant. I will always choose to sleep down in Grandpa’s office so that I fall quickly into a deep slumber to the invariable sound of Click-Clock. I get discouraged as others (Unnamed Aunts, although there are only three of you) reach into him to stop him for the night, only half of the time remembering that he needs to be restarted in the morning ~ causing a bit of frustration for Gramps and sadness for me. I like my sleep with Click-Clock.


Over the past few days there have been a few reminders in my life of dear old Click-Clock. In the new house we have a clock, yet unnamed. The clock provides the traditional hour by hour mark in beautiful tones. As M&M and I sat with L on Tuesday night in sweet anticipation of that 11 o’clock hour I was filled with anxiety about the move and what lay ahead. The minute the clock struck that first tone it was as if I was sitting in front of that large window watching C&E pull weeds and hearing Grandma explain why the plant needed to moved, again. By the time we made it through the whole melody and the eleven chimes marking the hour I was calm and realized this house could be home, will be home.

Then last night as I lay in a bed far from Click-Clock after a long day of work and a rush of an evening my mind played the scenarios that could be ahead. I heard giggles next to me but found my mind was already miles away in different company. As per usual, I felt the anxiety of the next few steps come quickly. But then, as if Click-Clock was there himself, I heard a clock somewhere close, as the notes pealed I smiled and then ... one … two … I fell asleep within moments.

… three … four … five … six. I awoke to the same tones.