The funeral was over,
and the family had gathered around the old home place.
There was a sadness and stillness over the farm,
because we all missed my papa's
smiling face.
My mother walked over to
the mantel and got
Papa's old pocket watch.
She said, here son,
your dad wanted you to have this old watch.
It's not worth much, but it still runs.
A tear came to my eyes,
I stood there holding that old old watch
Cause I noticed something very strange,
by every number there'd been carved a notch
A smile came across my mother
's face torn with strife
She said your papa
put those notches
there, son
You see, that was his way
of marking events
that he liked best in his life
You see that notch by the one
He put it there the day we were wed,
and that notch by the two, why son, that's the very
notch that represents you.
The notch by the three, four, five,
and six was carved when your brothers and sisters
were born and he put a notch by the sev
en when we bought this old place here from
Mr.
Horn
and he carved a notch by the eight that was the
day that you started the school
and he carved a notch by the nine the day
you married your own precious jewel
And he carved a notch by the 10 when he saw
his first grandchild that he so admired.
And he put a notch by the 11 just a few
short years ago when he retired.
Now your papa always said the twelve
was reserved for him after he was laid to rest.
So you see son, that was his way of marking
events in his life that he liked best.
And so, there is twelve notches
on that old watch today.
And it hangs over a picture of my papa,
smiling in that old familiar way.
But oh, how wrong you were, mom,
when you handed me papa's old pocket watch and said
It's not worth much,
but it's still right.
Thank