For as long as I can remember my Mom would say "someday you'll have the grandfather clock and Bev will have the piano". And ever since my Dad passed away, I've been in a long process to get the clock to my home and get it running.
The clock was made back in the 1800s, and the story has it that my great great grandfather (maybe one more great?) designed the case himself. Using the advice of an old family friend I carefully carried the clock works myself from my parents' place to my condo in DC (while I had a mover handle the case). Then I had my movers contract with specialty services to move the clock from my condo to storage, and then set it up in the new house.
And after all this it arrived here needing two obvious repairs. I was relieved when the antique clock guy told me they'd be easy to fix. So I was not expecting it when he called today to say I had a serious problem. The front face of the clock had been subtly bent and was keeping the clock from running. And if he bent it back any more than he had already, the original paint on the face would start falling off. So I opted rather than to fully repair it which would be a major restoration effort, to simply detach the piece getting in the way and get the movement running again. Ugh. So now I'm waiting for my semi-permanently broken clock to be returned home. [and I don't think the insurance on the shipment will apply since they very carefully noted that the clock was not running when they came to pack it. I didn't think there was any point in doing that so it could run 3 weeks before being shipped off to storage. ]
I can't believe I let this happen. I'm not sure I ever really appreciated the responsibility to carry on the family legacy. And now I feel like I failed my mom. Maybe the guilt will make me appreciate the chiming of the hours in the middle of night. And my sister better not screw up the piano!
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