Time To Let Go Of The Old Kitchen Clock

Photo by John Hoff

Back when I lived in Seattle with my then-wife and our new baby boy, this clock hung in my kitchen. I can't say I was ever crazy about it because...

...first of all, I'm sure my spouse paid full price for it, probably on one of those credit cards I was left holding when she split. But the clock fell into my possession after The Battle of Seattle and I dragged it with me on my Odyssey-like journey to be in the same approximate geographical region as my precious son, which now brings me to North Minneapolis. She is south of Minneapolis.

Of course. If I am North, she is South.

Everywhere the clock has followed me either hanging on a wall or packed away, lightly, waiting for the next wall. Everywhere it reminds me of the kitchen in my former apartment in Seattle, with the hardwood floors, French glass doors, a spectacular view of Mount Tacoma, and numerous exotic eateries within walking distance.

I hope this is the last place I live. I hope this is where I stay. My ex-wife recently remarried and I coldly, ruthlessly calculate any marriage--even a bad one--is probably good for at least 7 years, and 7 years will put my 11-year-0ld son into his first year of college. At that point, he will be a young adult craving independence and I won't feel obligated to move to whatever city he goes to for college, listening to the audible voice of my departed father: "Don't make the same mistakes I made. Stay with your son, be a part of his life, no matter what it takes.")

(My son has his heart set on MIT, because that's "the best school for robots," which are his obsession)

So how does one deal with an object which is painful to possess, and also painful to let go? I say "Give it away in a special way." The Hawthorne Area Community Council had a non-functioning clock in the room where we have meetings...at least it is the room for small meetings. Bigger meetings spill out front.

"I will get you another clock," I said, at that last meeting of the "Eco-Village Task Force." I knew exactly which clock I had in mind. When I saw some of my relatives a few weeks ago, I visited my archived possessions and snatched up the clock. A few days ago, I gave it to Kathy Welch, pictured above, the HACC Office Manager.

Immediately I felt lighter, freer.

Or maybe that was just the Rock Star Energy Drink kicking in.