Memory of a memory

A few weeks ago I asked a friend to contribute to my project and he offered the diving watch I just published on the site.
It made me think of when my father took me to a watch shop late at night, many years ago to get my "first" watch.
I remember clearly feeling that this was a passage, a kind of initial step on the journey into adulthood.
The owner of this shop must have been a friend of my fathers or a business associate, as the shop was closed and the "purchase was conducted in the back room, thinking about it my memory is of mystery and secrecy.
I sadly don't have that watch anymore, but it Ian's story reminded me of the many things left behind, like memories.