by Elaine Arthur

Created on: June 28, 2007

I have never been a technical wizard. My two younger daughters have a computer, and aside from asking them to print out recipes and e-mails from family, I steer clear of it. My talents don't extend far beyond turning on a light switch and handling the remote control.

This is why one day in late July of 1999, I impatiently waited for my daughter and her husband to come visiting with my young grandson. My son-in-law Eddie is a certified automobile mechanic. He's very good with motors, switches, and things that blink. That particular morning, my clock radio had reset itself to 12:00, and the numbers kept flashing. Power outage? No-all the other clocks throughout the house worked fine. I pushed a few buttons, turned a dial, but the time did not change. I gave up and waited until Terry and Eddie's car pulled into the driveway. After the usual hugs and kisses from my grandson, whom we all called "Little Man," I took Eddie by the arm and dragged him into the next room to examine my troublesome clock. His diagnosis: "You need to reset the time."

"Well, thank you very much, Mr. Goodwrench," I said. "You think I know how to do that?"

My son-in-law quickly restored the correct time, then helpfully suggested that I take care to avoid unplugging the clock in the future. When I told him I had done no such thing, he gave me a look of patient skepticism. "Well, maybe when you plugged in the vacuum" he offered mildly.

He had me there. I hadn't done the vacuuming that day; my daughter Ashley had. But when I passed Eddie's advice on to her, she gave me a measured, respectful response, something like "Oh, Mother, why would I do a DUMB thing like that?"

But that was the last I thought about it. We were busy that particular weekend, since all six of us were preparing for a 3-day vacation in Florida. It had been awhile for me, and I wasn't really sure I wanted to go, but the kids persuaded me. It had been a rough year, with my mother in a nursing home, in declining health. It was widely agreed that I needed to de-stress.

We went out shopping for last-minute items, and looked forward to hitting the road early the next morning. Little Man needed to use my bathroom before he and his parents continued home; he came skipping out the door, laughing "Grandma, your clock is going blink-blink-blink again!" To my mild embarrassment, he was able to reset the time himself, having watched his father a few hours before. I realized I'd probably be buying a new clock shortly after vacation ended.

I didn't

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