After my mother passed away in 1996, my sister brought me some remembrances. The one I treasured most was my mother's old Bulova watch. My father had bought it for her many years before. She always wore it with pride especially when she dressed up. When I got married, she slipped it to me to wear on my wedding day as my "something borrowed". Not long after Ginger passed the watch to me, I wrote this poem that pretty much sums up my feelings about it:
Mother's Watch
It graced my mother's graceful arm
Like her, it had a special charm
With that same watch I pass the time
As mother did while in her prime
I have a special picture
in the movie of my mind
Of mother glancing at its hands
And sometimes now I find
I look down its antique face
And its Nineteen Fifty Five
We're waiting at the bus stop
And my mother's still alive
Somehow I have become her
And I feel her special charm
As I wear the watch that one time graced
My mothers' graceful arm
Mother's Watch
It graced my mother's graceful arm
Like her, it had a special charm
With that same watch I pass the time
As mother did while in her prime
I have a special picture
in the movie of my mind
Of mother glancing at its hands
And sometimes now I find
I look down its antique face
And its Nineteen Fifty Five
We're waiting at the bus stop
And my mother's still alive
Somehow I have become her
And I feel her special charm
As I wear the watch that one time graced
My mothers' graceful arm