In my last post, I said I didn't feel much like writing (which is still true) but something odd has occurred involving my vintage clock which I wanted to share with you.
A few years ago, I purchased the gorgeous porcelain antique Royal Bonn clock below, made in the late 1800's by the Ansonia Clock Company.
Although the porcelain case was in exceptionally good condition, no cracks, chips, etc., it never kept time.
In case you aren't familiar, this is an "eight day movement" type of clock which means it's meant to be wound by a key (inserted into the slots on the face of the dial) every eight days.
I really hoped I could get it to work again so after I received it, I took it to an antique clock repairman to see if he could get it running. Unfortunately, he was in the process of moving his shop & said it needed to be taken completely apart and reassembled correctly which he could not do at that time.
I brought it home disappointed but set it on my bedroom dresser and thought it was still lovely to look anyway. It's been silently sitting in that position ever since until....
approximately two weeks after my brother passed. Then, in the middle of the night, the clock suddenly began to chime and rhythmically tick.
The sound, utterly foreign until that moment, startled me awake and actually spooked me a little at first. Since it hadn't ever kept time before, it wasn't set correctly but the chiming wasn't coordinating with the time on the face of the clock anyway. There actually didn't seem to be a pattern to it at all ~ it would chime a lot (sometimes 20 times or more) at odd intervals but never on the hour, half hour, or quarter hour as you would think. The sound and utter oddity of the whole occurrence, kept me up the rest of the night, as you might imagine.
In the morning, I called my Mom and told her what the clock was doing and she asked if it was keeping time. I hadn't set it so I didn't know. Hesitantly (and half afraid it would stop working if I touched it) I opened the case & gently turned the hands to the correct time.
It kept PERFECT time the rest of the day.
As the hours passed, I didn't know what to think. This clock, which had never even emitted so much as a whisper of a sound before, ticked on so regularly and beautifully, it began to feel strangely comforting.
All throughout the day, I regularly went into my bedroom just to sit & listen to it, check the time, etc. That night, at 12:30 AM, when I went to bed, I wondered if the chiming would keep me up but I fell asleep fairly quickly only to wake up two hours later to eerie silence.
The clock had stopped at 12:45 AM ~ almost 24 hours after it began to chime.
I have jiggled it, moved it, tried to wind it, turned the hands, etc. and cannot get one "tick" out of it ONCE AGAIN. I don't know what your feelings are about inexplicable phenomena like this, but I want to believe my brother was using the clock to send me a message that he's okay? I don't know if that's crazy, wishful thinking or what?
Now that it's silent again, I weirdly miss it. Anyway, that's the story I logged on to share with you, it was such a peculiar, special event, I didn't want to keep it to myself.
Btw, I purchased another David Austin rose, 'Golden Celebration' to plant in my brothers memory. I've had this particular rose before in my garden but lost it two winters ago. My brother wasn't particularly a "plant person," & though I thought of getting something totally new, I selected this one again because of the name. Growing up, we used to call him "the Golden Boy" because he was so smart and never got into trouble so he was usually in favor with our parents. "Celebration" for his life and all he accomplished and that I got to be part of it.
I feel like I positioned this 'Golden Celebration' better in the garden than the last one plus I can see it whenever I look out my front door, which makes me happy.
Not that I need any reminders to remember him, as all of you know who have lost someone very dear are much too aware... I'm just hoping it's another small step in the direction of healing. Many thanks again for all your comforting messages. Although I haven't responded yet, I am greatly appreciative of each and every one.