On Monday, I gave thanks for this clock. It is one that was always ticking, chiming, and keeping time in my Grammie and Grandpa Olenick's home. Whenever there was a house full of people, it would sometimes be stopped at night if my husband Tom or my uncle Dee slept in the room. (Tom says that the ticking became like a bomb going off in his head as he was trying to sleep. A little sensitive at times.) But usually, it created a soothing background sound. Whenever there was a settling down in the late afternoon for naps. For reading. For a game of Bird Lotto or dominoes... the clock was there...
When my dad handed it to me, instructing me on how to care for it, my heart was at once saddened and yet joy-filled. For I now have this clock because my grandparents are gone. I no longer hear Grammie's laughter or Grandpa's quiet voice asking if I want to help pick tomatoes or come and see the squash. And yet! I am so incredibly grateful that I now have this clock... Keeping time. Chiming. Reminding me always of my grandparents. It has become a reassuring sound in my home.
And oh, how grateful I am that I belong to a faith that believes in the Resurrection of the Body. That believes in an after-life. Memories of my grandparents help to alleviate the sorrow some. For when I smell those tomato plants, grumble about the voles, or yes, hear this clock, the connectedness that we share in our faith allow them to remain close...
So I keep time. Grateful for every crumb-filled, laundry-pile-up, baby-crawling, dishes-in-the-sink minute. For I know that time is fleeting. And I don't want to miss a second of it...
Joining in at Ann's place today.....
