There are always changes as time moves forward.  Many people come and go.  To the point, things that are precious today may well be gone tomorrow.  In spite of unstoppable change, there are people and things that we would like to keep with us indefinitely.  

There are plenty of warnings and reminders about the nature of loss and destruction.  Yeah, it may seem to be depressing and even morbid to think about loss. For even as the often-quoted adage reminds us, “This too shall pass.”  The old song from “Showboat” likens the passage of time to the flow of water as the lyrics state, “But old man river, he jes’ keeps rollin’ along.”  The good, the bad, the indifferent, they all flow to the past.

When I was about ten or eleven years old, my father gave me a watch.  It was not just an ordinary wristwatch that could take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.  It was an old watch.  It was a pocket watch.  It was my father’s watch.  It had been his father’s watch.  I loved that watch.  I had seen it and admired it for some time.  My father had kept it in his top drawer, and I would often take it out of the drawer to study it. 

The watch did not have a pop-up cover.  The time was always obvious through the glass crystal on the front.  A small second hand had its own place on the lower part of the face.  The winding stem had a simple “u” shaped connector over it.  Attached was a short chain with a “buffalo nickel” at its end.  On the back of the watch was the engraving of a train engine.  The back could be unscrewed so that all the workings could be seen.  Many times, I removed the back, simply to watch the spring rock the wheel that caused all the other wheels to move in their separate motions.  I loved watching the watch work.  I showed it to my friends and carried it in the “watch pocket” of my jeans. 

That pocket watch was special to me for two main reasons.  Number one: It was a gift to me from my father and it had been his.  Number two: Before my father owned it, the watch had been the property of my grandfather.  It had been given to my father by his father.  Being the third owner in the family was a point of pride to me.

As sometimes happened in old watches, the mainspring broke and needed to be replaced.  My mother had it in a drawer with another watch that needed repair.  Before we could get it to the watch repair shop, our house was burglarized.  Among the things stolen were the watches waiting to be repaired.  I was angry.  I felt that a part of my history had been stolen from me.  No thief was ever going to appreciate the value of that watch.  I even imagined it being discarded as valueless when it was realized that the timepiece was broken.  Of course, I never saw that watch again.

There is an often-presented idea, reminding us that things are just things.  Maybe, at some level we accept the premise.  At the same time, we cannot fully convince ourselves.  Perhaps we even quote Jesus.  “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal” (Matthew 6:19-20).  Still, to infer that physical things have no value is not exactly true. 

The value of things, and much more people, should never be doubted.  Whether value is tied to actual and practical use, or is held in sentimentality, there is realized value.  The stolen watch had only a small amount of practical value.  With a small amount of money, a very accurate and usable watch can be purchased.  The sentimental value of that old pocket watch was beyond measure.

Perhaps a twist on another scripture may address the sense that is here involved.  Again, it was Jesus who said, “And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. But rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matthew 10:28).  So, I may have learned, a thief may take a cherished item from you, but that thief cannot take that value of the item that remains in your heart.  In other words, time and circumstances may rob us of people and “things”, but they cannot rob us of the memories.

So, when people or things are gone from our tangible living it might be good for us to cling to the words of a song often associated with the late Bob Hope.  “Thanks for the memories.”  May we always have the realized and undiminished value of our memories.

Russell L. Dyer

August 14, 2025