When I hear a clock ticking, I go back a few decades and find myself in Ma and Pappy Latty’s house. They always had a wind-up clock and I can remember how the sound meant peace and security for me. I can see my grandparents’ living room, sun coming through the windows, and feel the warmth and silence. All is still except for the ticking of the clock.
By the time I knew Ma and Pappy, their steps were sometimes slow and halting, but they looked on life with calm eyes, spoke in soft voices, and always welcomed their grandchildren into their home.
The song, “Grandfather’s Clock” reminds me of Pappy, although he and Ma never owned one of the tall, wind-up clocks. Theirs sat on a mantel or shelf. But, the ticking of a timepiece brings back warm, peaceful memories of two people I loved and who loved me.
This is from the book, Remembering Etta Bend. The ticking of a wind-up clock is one of those sounds that is seldom heard nowadays.
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