The Memory of Watches

La Voz de Galicia – May 24, 2024 →

Cristina PatoI don’t know what I was looking for, but at that moment it seemed very important. I rummaged through everything I had at home searching for that thing, which I don’t know what it was, because the moment I opened the little box of watches, I couldn’t help but stop and think about them. They were all there, bored, without wind, without batteries, staring at me, as if saying, «So what are we doing here, stuck in time?» Then I began to think about the last time I wore a watch on my wrist. Me, the jeweler’s daughter, when did I stop using them? There was the watch that had been so hard to get from my father, a men’s watch that I wore for many years. There were also my dress watches, the ones that looked so good with concert clothes. And my Cuervo y Sobrinos pocket watch, which had accompanied me in my last years on stage. There were the good watches and the bad ones, the everyday ones and the special occasion ones, all together in a little box. And I had forgotten all of them, just as I had forgotten who I was when I wore them.

It’s curious to think about the memory of objects. Those watches remained there frozen in my memory, marking a time in my life, and now they are invisible jewels that no one uses. The amount of information contained in the things we keep has always fascinated me, because once we die, that information dies with them, and everything loses its meaning, or maybe it takes on a different meaning than the original.

In the end, I didn’t find what I was looking for, but that fortuitous encounter with the watches of the past made me reflect on the rush with which I lived when I used to wear them, and on the importance of feeling the present time instead of rushing toward a future time.

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