• ShareSach.comTham gia cộng đồng chia sẻ sách miễn phí để trải nghiệm thế giới sách đa dạng và phong phú. Tải và đọc sách mọi lúc, mọi nơi!
Danh mục
  1. Trang chủ
  2. Chicken soup for the soul 14 - Quà tặng từ trái tim
  3. Trang 45

  • Trước
  • 1
  • More pages
  • 44
  • 45
  • 46
  • More pages
  • 73
  • Sau
  • Trước
  • 1
  • More pages
  • 44
  • 45
  • 46
  • More pages
  • 73
  • Sau

Making memories

I

t was the holiday season, with the “big three”- Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas – just ahead. My father was battling cancer at that time; he was very ill. Afraid that he wouldn’t be around for Christmas, I wanted to make that year extra special. I thought the perfect gift was a grandfather clock, handbuilt by me. It was one of the things he had always wanted but could never afford. Although I had not built anything of that complexity, I felt it would not only make my dad proud of me, but it would give him something from me that he could treasure.

I purchased a magnificent self-assembly kit and immediately devoted my time to the overwhelming task of putting to together.

Every day after work I went to my brother’s house to secretly work on the clock. Three hours a day, six days a week I labored all alone, trying to figure out those complicated instructions. As it started to take form, the anticipation and internal excitement were almost too much to bear. I was really proud and couldn’t help visualizing how surprised, appreciative and amazed my dad would surely be when he unwrapped the masterpiece. On October 10, I finally finished the clock and wrapped it up with a big red bow, ready to be delivered in a couple of months on Christmas Eve. The next morning I left on a trip to Washington.

Two days later at 7:00 A.M., the phone rang in my hotel room. It was my brother. “Dad just died,” he cried.

That was a sad and brutal Christmas for me. Mom had a gorgeous Christmas tree, there were gifts galore. And there in the corner of my mother’s living room stood the tall, solid oak grandfather clock that I had spent 63 hours building. But there was no Dad! The presents meant nothing and the clock meant nothing in comparison to the loss of my dad.

Not a day goes by that I don’t regret the time I spent on that clock, now knowing that I should have spent those final, most sacred hours – all 63 of them – at my father’s side. What a fool I was to think a “thing” would make him happy. Things don’t make people happy. Time spent together with loved ones does!