Every half a year,
we went to see Uncle Henry,
who was living in Klastrup.
“He is a bachelor – and a bit lonely,”
my mother said, when it again
was time to visit Uncle Henry.
He lived on his old smallholding
and spent all his time reading books.
My father said that he had read all the books
in the local library in Østerild.
Uncle Henry should have gone to college,
but there had not been enough money
to give him an education.
Instead he had to tend the cattle,
while he was imagining
that the outside world did not exist.
For a long time, Uncle Henry
had had a bad heart,
but nothing was wrong with his brain.
We inherited Uncle Henry’s grandfather clock,
when he died. The clock came to stand in the living room
of Øster Skaarup. It could still go, although
it was much older than Uncle Henry.
“Things might become very old,
if we look carefully after them, ” my mother said.