"My watch is haunted."
I watched the jeweler's face to see how he would react but he must have heard it all and kept a blank expression. He nodded and said dryly, "I think that is out of my field of expertise."
I should start from the beginning. Every year at the changing of the clocks, my father would try to convince us that we were gaining an hour when we were losing an hour or vice versa. He had elaborate arguments to convince us of his brilliance and he was tenacious and very convincing. Of course, we were little kids at the time and were easily confused.
As we got older he would call us twice a year to remind us how much sleep we were losing or gaining. After we were grown we learned not to argue with him because it gave him nothing but glee and irritated the crap out of us.
Last year my mother died and exactly 16 weeks later my father, who was still in the same nursing home, also died. My sister was their primary caregiver. One day she called me up and said, "I hope you're sitting down. I think Dad is haunting me. It's actually kind of funny."
She had gone into her bedroom to get something, came out and looked at the microwave clock and it was an hour ahead. She reset it and thought nothing of it until a day later when her coffee pot clock jumped ahead an hour. She thought, "Hmmm, that's odd."
THEN, she started having problems with Dad's anchor clock. It was in her living room and the clock was starting and stopping. She changed the batteries, but it kept happening, so she yelled out into the ether, "OK dad. I know you're here. Stop f**king with my clocks!"
She called me up to tell me the story and no sooner did she start telling it to me, while she was on the phone with me---the anchor clock stopped. After she hung up, it started up again.
I had started having my own clock issues before she called me. I had this really nice watch that I had bought myself. It started and stopped so I took it to the jeweler and he replaced the battery. It worked for a day or two and stopped again. I brought it back and he replaced the battery again and cleaned it. He figured the first battery was defective or maybe there was some schmutz inside the workings. I took it home and it worked for about a week and then it stopped again. This was the point where my sister called me and told me what was going on.
Meanwhile at my office, the clocks in my examination rooms and office kitchen stopped working. Batteries were replaced, and the clocks refused to function. It was weird.
Fast forward a couple of weeks: I'm in the jewelry store and my watch is still not working. I hand to the jeweler and tell him that my watch is haunted.
"We'll have to send it to the factory. It'll be expensive. Do you still want to do it?" He gave me a price and I said, OK.
I got it back after Christmas and it worked for a week and then it stopped again. I didn't go back.
I started wearing my my mother's old watch which has a nice big face and a secondhand. I haven't had a single problem with it. My sister says that she hasn't had any problems with her clocks lately either. I wonder if my dad just wanted me to wear my mother's watch and/or to remind us that he was still around.
My parents and I didn't part on great terms. I wonder if this is his way of making me remember them with a smile on my face and a laugh.
Oh and by the way, next year when you spring forward and you get that extra hour of sleep because the clock is a whole hour ahead, think about my dad.