The watch belonged to my dad’s mother, my Grandma Darlene. As a child, I was always told that I had my grandmother’s wrists and fingers--small, delicate wrists and long fingers. She was resentful I never played the piano and would teach me when I’d visit.
She wore this watch every day and I would always look at it on her wrists and tell her how beautiful I thought it was. She was a very crass woman and would tell me, without hesitation, that when she “kicked” that I could have it. My older cousin inherited all of her fine jewellery, but everyone knew the watch was mine.
My grandmother was a hard-living woman. She smoked, yelled, told it how she thought it was...she was often quite terrifying. She did, however, love beautiful, truly unique things. As an avid antique collector, she would often foist her collections onto us. It wasn’t unusual for her to later ask for them back.
I wore the watch for many years after I inherited it. The batteries have been replaced countless times, but alas, it has stopped working again and needs to be refinished and repaired to wear as a proper watch. I like to save it for special occasions. Occasions where I want to feel classic, as watches feel obsolete in many ways now that people rely on their phones to check the time.
While I have a few new pieces that I've added to my collection over the years, the pieces that I wear every day have all belonged to someone I love. All living with me, in their next life.