Watched!

I wasn't raised to "give up" something for Lent. Whether it became fashionable for Presbyterians and Methodists to do so in the last 25 years or my family never paid attention to it, I haven't a clue. So, historically for me at least, it's always been a non-issue.

But this year I stumbled into giving up something I didn't think I could. My watch.

I love my watch. It's a two-dial, slim affair from Skagen. I bought it for our first trip to Australia. The time zones there are so convoluted and far ahead of home, I knew I'd never keep it straight without help. Then, I just kept wearing the watch. However, it has a tendency to twist about on my arm, bringing the dials into harm's way by resting on the underside of my wrist. I went to the jeweler to have it tightened the week before Ash Wednesday. Two days later it was bothering me so much in its tightness, that I took it off.

I was watch-less. And lost. My wrist felt vacant.

Making a beeline back to the jeweler, I found him gone. His wife was having surgery and he should be back in two days. No problem. I'd depend on my cell phone, my car clock, and the fact that every room in the house has a clock to keep me on time and in the know.

Two days later, I found out that his wife's surgery had proven complicated and it would be the next week. Okay. I could do this. Except the next week, she was worse. Now I was checking in with the store, not to get my watch redone, but to see how she was.

Two weeks after Ash Wednesday passed, I realized I'd inadvertently given up my watch. I adjusted. (Cannot believe I just wrote that. I don't like to adjust.) Three weeks passed and I'd decided I could do without my watch.

Then the jeweler's truck was at his store and I went in. We visited, I got an update on his wife (long, slow recovery), and I got my watch band realigned.

I'd like to say I put it in the drawer until Easter, but I can't. It's on. I suppose I had a half-Lent. But I don't look at it like I did. Really. I'm semi-weaned--and a little bit wiser.