Monday, February 3, 2020
As I remember it, the time I spent as a child at my Papa Howard’s house was marked by the tolling of a grandfather clock. I remember the clock seeming so old compared to the digital timepieces prominent in the 1980s. In the hallway I would crane my neck back to look up at the reverent timepiece, barely able to see its contented face. I imagined, if I chose the correct moment, I could pass through the warm wood and be transported to a faraway land I had only read about in books. I spent my childhood relying on that magnificent timepiece to resonate hourly and it never let me down.
As I got older, time took on a new shape. The house that homed the grandfather clock was sold and I started to mark my hours with friends, school, and eventually work. But I never forgot that clock just like I will never forget my Papa Howard. How could I forget such a novel, dependable, and worldly figure?
I love you Papa Howard.
-With all my heart, Rachael Simms
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