Two pocket watches that have a special place in my office and heart

For years I used to carry a pocket watch instead of wearing a wristwatch. It started when I was a kid and my dad gave me a pocket watch that belonged to his brother who had died. I don’t know why my dad trusted me with it. Maybe it was his trust that kept me from losing that watch the years I carried it in my pocket to grade school.

In my 20’s I learned that my Uncle Peter who owned the watch had died in a mental institution and my father who gave it to me had been confined to one when I was born. Suddenly the watch became even more significant and the time held within it more precious.

The watch has not kept time for years. I keep it in a special place in my office. It sits next to a pocket watch my cousin Joanne gave me in 1987 to commemorate my first solo concert in nearly ten years. As I continue to discover and share the story of my family’s hundred year secret relationship with depression my uncle’s watch bears silent witness to a journey shared.