The Grandfather's Clock

Feeling weak and sick over my body-ache when suddenly I heard my seven year old boy chanted a rhyme. Repeatedly he chanted the phrases again and again……in his melodious soothing voice.

My Grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor……………….


That few phrases brought my mind wandered back to March 16, last year. Yes I could vividly remember that particular date because that was the day my beloved dad left us without a word of farewell. God simply loved him too much and decided to let him to stay with the angels!

That crucial moment was when I received that dreaded call from mum. Over the phone, mum was trembling with her words. “Ah Pa is very weak…. come here immediately”. My entire body immediately went weak and couldn’t move for a moment. There was nothing much I could do except holding his hand and repeatedly uttered “I love you, pa. Thank you for always being there for me”. Tears flowing freely down my cheeks. And silently, I released his hand! At that juncture, dad left us with the sweetest smile! I gave dad a little peck on his forehead knowing that his illness and suffering had finally came to an end.

The thoughts of dad, brought my mind towards the magnificent clock standing gracefully in my parent’s house. Am I obsessed with this clock? Does it symbolize something greater than itself?

To me, the essence of this clock represents it’s natural beauty and the history beyond it’s existence. What can I say about this clock?

Yes, there is this clock. Obviously a grandfather’s clock. It is over one hundred years old and stands about eight feet tall. I've seen many clocks in my thirty over years of life and believe me, this is indeed a special clock. No other clock is made the same as this clock.

It’s surface is covered with beautiful mother of pearls. To me, each pearl represents a different time in its existence. Some pearls represent the past. Other pearls represent the present, and there are many pearls yet to come, the future.

It’s peculiar wooden case that holds the pendulum which is heavy-weight symbolizes the heart of the time piece. Above the shinny glass door is a carving of a pair of dragon and phoenix which symbolizes harmony in Chinese.

The face of the clock shows the seconds, minutes and hours of the day. The clock has a setting for its chimes which strikes every quarter without fail. The gentle tick tock has been a comfort on many occasions, particularly during my sleepless nights, the unmistakable grandfather clock chime letting me know the time. Each and every chimes represents a different time of the day. No man can turn back the clock. Every minute and hour just ticked away. “Time waits for no man or woman”

The location of this gigantic clock was pretty unique. It stood proudly in the lobby overlooking the dining room. Meals in that dining room were a time for the three Lim generations merged into one. There are aplenty of delicious food laid on the table from traditional recipes which for sure had love as the main ingredient. And always that grandfather clock stood like a trusted body guard, watching over our laughter and tear that were a part and parcel of human lives.

As a child, the old clock fascinated me. I watched and listened to it during meals. I marveled at how at different times of the day, that clock would chime three times, six times or more, with a wonderful soothing sound that echoed throughout the house. I found the clock comforting. Year after year, the clock chimed, a part of my memories, a part of my heart.

I also remembered using the gap behind the grandfather clock in the game of hide and seek until I grew too big to fit into the hole. And also my mischief act of hiding my school report cards behind that clock whenever my grades depreciated. The gap had been a secret treasure chest where I used to hid many secret things away from my siblings.

Even more wonderful to me was my dad’s ritual. He carefully wound that clock with a secret key each morning. That key was magic to me. It kept our family's magnificent clock ticking and chiming, a part of every tradition, as solid as the wood from which it was made of.

I remembered watching as dad took the magic key from his pocket and opened the hidden door of the massive old clock. That was when I took the opportunity to peek inside to watch the pendulum swing.

I never missed that chance of watching dad going through the ceremony of winding the clock exactly at twenty five minutes past seven. That was the only time in the morning that dad could managed to fit the key into the three keyholes of the clock. That was the time that the clock’s hands had gotten at the right place for dad to insert the keys. He inserted the key and wound it very gently. “Remember, dear Annie, you must handle it with care”, he would whisper to me. He never let that clock wind down or stop.

When I grown a little older, he showed me how to open the door to the grandfather's clock and let me had the experience of winding the key. With great patience, dad taught me how to wind the clock with the correct technique. I remember the first time when I did, I trembled with anticipation. To be part of this family ritual was indeed special.

After my beloved dad died, it was several months after the funeral before I remembered the clock! "Oh dear! The clock! We've let it wind down". Tears flowed freely when I entered the dining room. The clock stood unusually quiet. As quiet as the funeral proceedings had been. The clock even seemed smaller. Not quite as magnificent without my father's special touch. I couldn't bear to look at it.

This family heirloom had been extremely close to my heart. It bonded the relationship I had with my late father. It narrowed down the generation gap between the senior Lim and the junior Lim.

It had ceased ticking. The mechanism had somewhat gone astray due to age. The hands on the clock were frozen, a reminder of time slipping away, stopped at the very moment when dad had stopped winding it. Everything just went still without the ticking of the clock.

I engaged a horologist to work with the intricate and delicate mechanical devices in that antique clock. The specialist managed to set life back to that special clock which took him months of experimentation.

Once again I repeat the ritual that my late dad’s had immaculately done. I took the key in my sweaty hand and opened the clock’s door. Suddenly, I was a child again, watching my father with his silver-white hair and wrinkled handsome face. He was there, waving at me, while turning to look at the clock's magic. The key had so much power. I was lost in the moment for a long time. Then slowly, I inserted the key and wound the clock. It sprang to life. Tick-tock, tick-tock, life and chimes were heard into the entire room, into the house and into my heart. In the movement of the hands of the clock, my father lived again.

When I look at this clock I recall memories of its past and a feeling of sadness floods my soul. I think of those fellow loved ones who had passed on; whose distant footsteps echo through the corridors of time. I think of my dad and it saddens me, but thinking of him again brings me pleasure too.

For me, this special clock symbolizes the ages of man gliding away, one by one. The pendulum of time ticking away funeral marches to the grave. Our loved ones depart as time goes by and soon each one of us shall follow too. The grandfather clock represents the whole; past, present and future. It sees you. That is the essence of it. Many things in life swing back and forth, like a pendulum

Now that this precious grandfather’s clock is in my procession, I’ll make sure that the Lim’s family tradition move down from generations to generations. This is the secret of the Lim's generation.