The Grandfather Clock

When my grandparents downsized, they gave me their grandfather clock, which has stood in the front hall of every house they've lived in since 1952. It's taller than me and chimes every quarter hour.

The first week it was in my apartment, I couldn't sleep. Bong. Bong. Bong. My cat hid under the bed. My downstairs neighbor asked if I'd started a church.

But slowly, it became the heartbeat of my home. I wake up to its morning chime. I know without looking when it's time to start dinner. When friends come over and it chimes in the middle of a conversation, everyone pauses and smiles.

Sometimes my grandmother calls right before the hour, just so she can hear it over the line. She listens to it chime and says, "There it is." Sixty years of her life in a sound. I feel very lucky to keep it.