For some reason today my spirits have been unfeasible low.
I took dad’s Tissot into a watch makers to have the movement replaced. It stopped soon after I inherited it. For some reason I asked the watchmaker to give me the old movement.
“I’ve never seen the movement of a watch close up”
“I can show you now if you’d like”
“I want to play with it, poke it around, take it apart, can I have it with the repaired watch?”
He agreed. I didn’t really understand why I wanted it.
In the evening I watched a TV programme about Niel Sedaka. Mumsie had chosen “this is our lost song together” for dad’s funeral. I searched for the song on you tube and found a Swedish version by Agnetha. So many small reasons to cry. I guess this is melancholia, seeking-out the sadness. Feeling self-centred, lonely and guilty for letting myself wallow in these feelings.