This was my grandfather's, it's been mine for a while. He died in 1982, on Christmas Eve. It bothered me quite a bit for a while, and it still does slightly, but overall it's a good thing. He was sick and in the hospital for quite a while. He had lung cancer. He knew his clock was about to stop tickin' and he told his doctor that he wanted to go home to die. The doctor agreed. My grandfather died in his bed, in his home, and in my grandmother's arms.
