When I was given my grandfather's watch, I first thought it would be a good idea to polish out the scratches. It was pretty beaten up, given it was his 'daily driver' watch - one that he would have worn everyday going about his life and business. And given that it is over 50 years old (at least), it has had quite a lot of wear and tear. So, I made some enquiries, and was all set to send it off to get the crystal replaced and have a new-looking watch.
But I never got around to sending it away.
I started wearing it - often on Sundays - and found myself looking more closely at the scratches on the watch. And every time I looked at it, I found myself wondering and pondering. I wonder what was my grandfather doing when that scratch was caused? Or that one? Was this where he was building something? Or helping someone? Given that he was a judge, was he hitting his gavel too hard on the bench and that caused a dent? Given that he was a green thumb, was he wearing it while doing some digging and planting? Was he working on the house that my father grew up in and fixing something when his tool caused a scratch?
These marks and blemishes caused by otherwise everyday occurrences are for me, at least, a very tangible connection to someone very important to me who passed away many years ago. I think of them as the echoes of the past etched into the present. They form an intricate web of moments carved into a crystal that makes that timepiece a literal piece of time. And all the more precious to me.
Not in spite of the scratches, but because of them.
And it's not like this is an otherwise objectively valuable watch. These 'flaws' and 'damaged parts' are would probably make it worthless to insure, yet make it priceless to me.
What, then, will be my equivalent? When my father handed my grandfather's watch to me, he said I'd need to get a new battery for it. "But Dad," I said, "it's a mechanical watch." And then I shook it, which was enough to get the rotor moving and a watch that hadn't been worn or used in decades sprung to life. What is the digital equivalent of that?! In a world where disposability and impermanence seems to be the order of the day, what opportunities do we have to make our mark, literally, in a way that our descendants might be able to cherish?
Time capsules - as in the ones that we bury in town squares to be opened in a hundred years etc. - are usually fascinating for the very ordinary nature of what is inside them. We grab the 'important' art and inventions from those periods, usually, and put them in a museum. But the everyday ordinary stuff? It's often more interesting, I think, because it is an honest snapshot of what was going on in a time we cannot experience ourselves. Not polished or perfect, just preserved.
Sure there are interesting technologies being created that might address super-long-term digital storage needs. Ironically, given this note, they often seem to involve etching in glass. But I think we need to give thought to capturing some of the everyday minutiae as well in order to better facilitate learning more fully from the past as we work to shape the future we prefer. Reminders that serve to point out the patterns of the past and the heritage that we are adding to are good things to have close by.
Like my grandfather's watch.