I finally picked up my fathers’ watch today after sifting through my drawer of watches to find the perfect one for my interview. I’d recently found this really pretty black shirt, with autumn colored floral print. With the shades of burgundy, tan, blush pink, and maroon, I’d had the perfect watch in mind to compliment my attire. Today I’ll be interviewing for one of the biggest career opportunities I’d been presented with. As a writer, I’ve always dreamt about getting offered a travel opportunity for writers, so this one would definitely put me in the position for that.
My fathers’ watch had seen better days. The gold had faded and the glass was giving that foggy affect when trying to see the time. The battery died years ago. My father passed away in 2006. My aunt Irene told me she’d keep all of his jewelry for me to receive only when I was older. At the time I was only an irresponsible fifteen year old. She knew better than I did, that waiting to get his possessions would be worth the life long memories. Glancing down at his watch I realized something that hadn’t quite caught my attention before. I grabbed the watch, opening it enough to slide my hand through to comfortably fit it on my wrist. I quickly realized why I never wear it. My tiny arm hairs seem to get stuck between the links. One of those old school watches that had to be put together piece by piece, not one of those things you could just clasp together.
The watch hands pointed at the 12 and 3, indicating the last time it had been used. Was it the day my father passed away? Was it a moment he spent doing something he loved? Perhaps it was the time when he called me a week before he died. I could hear his voice, whispering softly to me over the phone “I want daddy’s baby. I want daddy’s baby.” He sounded so helpless. I wish I could reach out and grab him but we were nearly 300 miles apart. He’d been in the hospital for nearly a month now. I hadn’t seen him since he was first admitted and just like him, I needed to be with him too.
When mom died in 1996, shortly before Christmas, dad latched on to me more than anything a person could latch on to. I had to move with my sister since he wasn’t able to take care of me, but nonetheless he did all he could. I remember mommy and I sitting on the back of his gray car as he’d drive slowly down Skull Street. That was the street I grew up on. I could practically hear the laughter we shared. It was like this quite often. Valentine’s Day dad would buy mom and I boxes of chocolate, of which she’d get the big box and I’d have the small one, and he’d bring us roses. This introduced me to my love for flowers. Those moments introduced me to being able to recognize what true love really felt like.
My apple watch alarm went off and startled me. I could feel the tears slowly falling from my eyes. All the memories of my parents were flooding in my mind as I desperately tried to figure out what had happened at 3:00. It couldn’t have been the moment he passed away right? I remembered getting home from school and learning the news. That was no later than 2:15PM. As desperately as I wanted to remember what happened in that moment of my dads life, I needed to get myself ready for my interview. Honestly, I realized that as nervous as I was about starting this chapter of my life, there would be nothing to produce more confidence than to wear my fathers’ watch. I know that he’d be with me and that would make all the difference.