Did it stop, short, never to go again when the old man died by any chance?
Not sure you know, but Min is referencing song lyrics. You may not be as old as she
lol (I'm sure you can tell that I may be same age as Min as I know the song she's referencing)
True story:
I used to know a chap who ran a clock repair/restoration and sales business. We have lost touch now, but we were very good friends for a while and I often visited him, and even bought a couple of clocks from him. One day, I set up a fake AOL email address with a convincing name of a fake customer and sent him a message. 20 or more years after the event, I can't recall the original wording but it was more or less as follows:
Dear Sir, I wonder if you might be able to give me advice about repairs to a clock, and perhaps some idea of the resale value. Unfortunately, I do not know an awful lot about clocks, but I have just inherited this one from my late grandfather, who died recently at the ge of 90.
All I can tell you is that it is very tall — far too tall for the shelf — and for the last 90 years it has stood in the hall. It was taller by far than my grandfather. I remember he had to reach up to wind it. However, I remember that he once remarked that allthough it was taller than him, it weighed "not a pennyweight more."
I believe it was exactly the same age as my grandfather, being bought by his own father on the very morning of my grandfather's birth. It stood in the same spot for 90 years, working perfectly, but stopped at exactly the time of my grandfather's death and we have been unable to get it started since. I don't know if it will ever go again.
My friend, despite being a Morris man who had attended many music song sessions in many pubs, did not make the connection with the song and he sent quite a formal reply, expressing his condolences for my recent loss, but saying he felt unable to advise without more details of the clock.
For those who don't know the song:
My grandfather's clock was too tall for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor
It was taller by half than the old man himself
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born
And was always his treasure and pride
But it stopped, short never to go again
When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering
His life seconds numbering
It stopped, short never to go again
When the old man died
My grandfather said that of those he could hire
Not a servant so faithful he found
For it wasted no time and had but one desire
At the close of each week to be wound
And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face
And its hands never hung by its side
But it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died
It rang and alarmed in the dead of the night
An alarm that for years had been dumb
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight
That his hour for departure had come
Still the clock kept the time with a soft and muffled chime
As we silently stood by his side
But it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering
His life seconds numbering
It stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died
Apparently it was written in 1876 and I am not that old. 
