I often pass by a watch shop near my house. From the outside, I can see the watchmaker focused on his work, illuminated by a lamp. He seems to be in a theatrical scene, the actor under the spotlights.

One day, I decided to go inside, and the little place made me feel like I had travelled back in time. Classical music played, and the scent of wood filled the air as Juan worked calmly and carefully on one of those objects that track the passage of time.

The walls were covered with large old clocks, and scattered around were others that reminded me of their past owners and the places they once decorated. I was drawn to a display case full of various alarm clocks and wristwatches, relics from a time when analogue was all we had and digital was still a dream. As I left, memories of my own past came flooding back.

I thought about my first watch, which had a white face with a red ring around it, and my father teaching me how the hands worked. I've always used analogue watches because, as an obstetrician, they were easy for me to use when monitoring fetal heartbeats during pregnancy checkups.

One of my most touching memories was the visit of one of my patients, accompanied by her husband, to my office. The husband, an older gentleman dressed in a suit, seemed familiar to me. He was my fourth-grade teacher! After giving us a warm hug, he showed me his watch and asked me to read what was engraved on the back. It was a thank-you note from his fourth-grade students. My mother had organized the collection of the money, and my father was the one in charge of buying it.

Whether mechanical, analogue, or digital, watches are a constant reminder of how life moves forward, mirroring our own journey. And Raùl, the watchmaker, awakened in me all those memories that I treasure so much.