Histories, memories, and times forgotten

The only physical memory I have of my late grandfather is his two watches, which were handed down to me after his passing: his Rolex Oysterdate, and his Casio Dual Time.

As a watch enthusiast, I mostly gravitated towards pieces I would have the chance to buy myself. I rarely ever wore the ones given to me.

So much so, that the batteries on the Casio stopped a long time ago. A very long time ago. 

I never bothered to have it changed. It was a quick fix, but I couldn't really be bothered by it. So it sat there, wilting away. 

The Rolex was another story: as every watch guy's (or gal) dream is to own a crown, I wore it significantly when I first got it. It got a bit scuffed and scratched as a result, and it shared the fate of its sibling as it was locked away in a box — only to be used once my wedding day came. 

But the thing is that when we wear our watches, they give life to those memories. Memories not only of our dearly beloved who have passed away, but memories of those moments of your life where you felt happy, sad, accomplished, beaten, or successful. 

Some people would argue to get something else: a locket, or a display memento, but for me, and for a lot of people out there, watches hold a huge significance in their lives. They symbolize milestones. They symbolize memories. 

It doesn't matter whether it's a Rolex worth thousands of dollars, or just a Casio worth dirt cheap. What matters is that the watch means something, and wearing it means that you understand the emotion behind it and feel it come alive inside of you.

But I digress: I finally got to change the batteries on that old Casio after x number of years. It's beat up. Some of the links may have a little rust. But it was my grandfather's everyday watch, all up to the time he got confined in the hospital. I may not have had the chance to actually say goodbye and thank him for loving me, but at least he's still in my memories every day. 

And yes, the Rolex will be on my wrist on my wedding day.