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The Cuckoo Clock

 

It has been a little over two years since I have posted here, or for that matter, really sat down and written much of anything!  Shame on me!!

The events and challenges that overtook our family during that time, simply overshadowed my desire to write.  Things have settled quite a bit and time has a way of pulling us along....and through...even the most difficult times, like a stubborn, faithful friend.

Recently, a good friend had some encouraging words for me, regarding some of my past blog posts.  Encouraging enough, to motivate me to shake the dust and cobwebs from the part of me that shares  anecdotes and simple stories.  Here is another.

From 1985 - 1988, I was in the U.S. Army, stationed in Berlin.  Sometime in 1987, I received a call from my parents.  This was as uncommon, as it was expensive!  I don't recall if it was my Mom or my Dad, but they wanted to let me know they were planning a vacation in Germany.  They wanted to visit me and at the same time, fulfill my Mom's lifelong dream of visiting Austria, (specifically Salzburg...where the movie, "The Sound of Music" had been filmed) and Germany, where my Mom hoped to visit the "Black Forest" and buy a "Cuckoo Clock".

The dates were established and it wasnt long before I found myself at Templehof Airport, greeting my parents!  Now, it bears noting that I come from a rather, well....lets just say, "stoic" family setting.  I was raised in a time and place, where Parents concerned themselves more with Parenting, and less with being your "friend".  It was quite normal and I assumed everyone's family was disciplined, stoic and ...Catholic!  I mention this because this would be the first time in my life that I would be speaking to my Parents, and spending time with them as a "sort of" responsible adult!

We enjoyed time at a variety of places while they visited, and my Mom fell in love with Salzburg, as did I.  In part because of the connection to my Mom's favorite movie, "The Sound Of Music".  However, one place and one event has stuck with me these 30 plus years later, more than any other.

We took an enchanting and picturesque train ride into the Black Forest, specifically to Triberg.  It is perhaps, the quintessential place to buy a traditional, hand carved cuckoo clock.  It is a breathtakingly pretty town, surrounded by the Black Forest in all directions.  The thick, dark woods reminds one of the Grimm Brothers fairy tale, "Hansel and Gretel!

While in Triberg, I recall talking to my Dad, at dinner I think....and conversing about something that had nothing to do with him being my Father, or me being his son.  We were just talking....two men, talking about...whatever, with each other.  I think he related a story from his youth, I admit, I dont recall.  At the time I did not really notice but later, as I was lying in bed going over the day, it struck me that for the first time...ever...my Dad had told me a story and just talked....to me. Not because I was in trouble, or because there was a lesson I needed to learn....not even because I was being "grounded" for some transgression!  He was just talking to me, like I was another man whose company he was enjoying.   It was the first time that had ever taken place...I was 25 years old.  It was a turning point for me, and I have never forgotten it.

The next day, we visited several "Cuckoo Clock" stores.  Now the word "store" is a bit of a misnomer, as some of these were half "workshop" and half "store".  At the time, there were still ACTUAL craftsman and wood carvers that would hand make cuckoo clocks.  My Mom was like a little girl in a candy shop.  She would bounce from clock to clock....a small clock here...a large clock there..."ohhhh look at this one"!..."it is much bigger"......"listen to how deep the cuckoo sings on this one"!  God knows how long we spent looking at clocks.  My Mom was in Cuckoo Heaven!  I then overheard my Mom and Dad talking about the prices. The prices of some of these hand carved, all wood clocks ranged from the hundreds to the tens of thousands of dollars!

Now I must pause here for a moment and explain something.  My family was frugal.  Not "Stingy" but rather the frugal that comes from a Dad working to support the 6 children that Mom was home taking care of every day.  "Powdered Milk"?  Yeah...We drank plenty of that.  Campbells Soup?  We thought that a grilled cheese sandwich and soup was almost like going out to dinner!  To be fair, we never went hungry (unless we went to bed without dinner because we had committed some terrible crime like talking back to Mom) and we did not live in poverty, but money was not wasted in our family. Money was required to provide for the family and there was usually little left for amenities.  We drove used cars, wore our cousins' "hand me down clothes"...and our family lived paycheck to paycheck.

So, when I overheard my Mom and Dad talking about the cost of some of these clocks, I was shocked when I heard my Dad say to my Mom, "you pick what you like, don't worry about the cost"....I was floored!   And, it was not my Father being flippant...I could tell he meant it.  I wasn't the only one floored.  My Mom stared back almost in disbelief...and I saw at that moment, a look in each of their eyes...that I had never  seen before.

My Mom eventually settled on a clock.  It was beautiful, larger than average, completely hand carved and it played two different Mozart Minuets....one when it struck the hour prior to noon, and one when it struck the hour after Noon. Little people would emerge and dance and twirl ...rotating just under the little cuckoo bird....it was beautiful...and it wasn't inexpensive.  When I watched my Mom select it from the hundreds of clocks, her blue eyes were bright and sparkling.  She was smiling like the little girl I saw running from clock to clock a while earlier.  I had never, ever, seen my Mom like this, and even writing about it now...it is a powerful memory.

 My Mom Selecting her Cuckoo Clock  (Triberg, Germany 1987)

The clock was shipped back to their home to preclude it from being damaged, as we still had several more days to vacation and travel.  Me?  I was left carrying the three wooden encased weights that hang under the clock.  I dragged those weights around...all 21 lbs.....train station to train station...as they would have cost a fortune to ship back to the USA.  To this day my Father laughs when he remembers me carrying and cursing the cuckoo clock weights!:)

From what I hear, my Mom LOVED and enjoyed that cuckoo clock....my Dad, well, it sometimes drove him crazy!

My Mom passed away 5 years later, succumbing to cancer.   I was fortunate enough to make it home about 2 days before she passed.  I was able to hug my Mom, and whisper that I loved her...as she lay on the couch....under the "tick tock" of that same cuckoo clock...the night she left us.

Years later, my Dad would give the cuckoo clock to me saying, "I know what it means to you".  It has hung prominently in our living room ever since.  It gets cleaned, repaired..whatever it takes to make sure it continues to keep time and play the familiar melodies at the top of each hour.  And it serves as a bittersweet reminder of that "little girl I saw running from clock to clock" all those years ago....my Mom.