I grew up around clocks.  All kinds of clocks were in my home.  We had mantel clocks.  We had grandfather clocks.  We had digital clocks.  I have many memories of those going off at all hours of the night.  It provided comfort and peace to me.  I remember these sounds with fondness and nostalgia.  I have always been a night owl.  You could not tell that from the last six months.  I am up at six in the morning whether or not I need to be so.  It is just the issues that I am dealing with that will not allow me to sleep as before.  

I remember staying up until three or four in the morning.  I remember hearing those clocks go off with their many chimes.  I remember one wall clock in particular.  I would usually hear my father come down the hall.   He would look up at me and shake his head.  He always had to be at work early in the morning.  I still have his picture hanging on my wall.  I am now driving his car.  I drink out of his old coffee mugs.  That keep me in touch with a man who was tough, loyal, strong, and an excellent teacher.  Those clocks remind me of him.  They remind me that he is still there for me.  It is funny how those clock sounds make me think of him.  Those sounds still remind me of all that he did for me when he was alive and even now that he is passed into God’s Army of Love.