This clock was a gift to volunteers at the hospital where the grand mamoo spends one day a week. I see it every time I use her bathroom.
I find it depressing, somehow, and we're locked in a struggle, this object and I, that I finally had to address.
Although I understand its intended sentiment, in the home of my mother the clock seems to taunt me with the thought that the time I have with her is ticking down. That my own life is ticking down. When faced with this clock it's hard to maintain a purposeful state of enjoying the moments we have now as we're having them.
Yes, it's important to consider the meaning of time, but dread won't help us move through the time we have with each other productively or happily.
You bug me, Clock.
I'm gonna stop using that bathroom.
++++++
Update:
After reading this post that nice boy called to make sure Mom was o.k. That's why he's known as that nice boy. Yes! Mom's great. She volunteers at the hospital and this was a gift to volunteers for their "gift of time".
When he and I were talking about the clock, mrguy overheard and asked "Are you talking about the clock in your mom's bathroom? I hate that thing! It's morbid! And it's loud. Tick! Tick! Tick! Your life is counting down." He hadn't even read the post yet :)
++++++
Update:
After reading this post that nice boy called to make sure Mom was o.k. That's why he's known as that nice boy. Yes! Mom's great. She volunteers at the hospital and this was a gift to volunteers for their "gift of time".
When he and I were talking about the clock, mrguy overheard and asked "Are you talking about the clock in your mom's bathroom? I hate that thing! It's morbid! And it's loud. Tick! Tick! Tick! Your life is counting down." He hadn't even read the post yet :)
No comments:
Post a Comment