I recently read a post or an e-mail of mine from some time back. I don’t know which post or e-mail, and I don’t remember how recently, but I had used a phrase in it that resounded in me and is still rattling around inside my brain.
“Circling the drain.”
It most certainly is not my original phrase, nor is it unique. But it’s a close approximation to how I’ve been feeling lately. Gone is that new feeling of relief I experienced upon the passing of my father. That euphoria – if I can call it that without sounding morbid or callous – has washed away, replaced now with the lonely reality that he is no longer “there.” The urge to visit him hits me, but I have nowhere to go.
It is a hazy, vague feeling of uselessness, this “circling the drain” feeling. Pointlessness. No matter what I do, no matter what greatness I achieve – or obscurity – when I’m gone, but for a few days, really, I will amount to nothing. Forgotten like yesterday’s bathwater.
Mrs. Farrago and I have moved another step forward in the proceedings…if you can call that “forward.” Talk about “circling the drain.”
Room For a Chuckle…at least
As I write, I am holed up in a room at the Courtyard by Marriott in Springfield, Missouri. Busy day tomorrow. A few moments ago I heard in the hallway outside my door the little bark of a little dog. I don’t know if pets are allowed in this hotel, nor do I care, as long as it doesn’t start making big barks within earshot while I’m trying to sleep.
The owner of this dog must have been carrying it down the hallway, either in his/her arms or in a pet carrier. I got my chuckle after I heard the first tentative bark of the dog.
“[bark!]”
And then its owner responded. “Shh!”
And then, “[bark!]”
“Shh!”
“[bark!]”
“Shh!”
Each sound was an exact replica of the sound each organism made before it. It was comical and cute.
To me, at least….
5 comments:
You might feel like you are circling the drain, but you never know where the pipe will take you.
Toast is right! That drain might be the answer to your prayers, whatever they are (I know, don't tell me) LOL
You will feel that unease for years about your dad. For at least 8-10 years after my mom and dad were gone, I started to call them every Sunday, as I had for decades, and I still think about doing it.
The bathwater is not completly gone until you scrub the ring out of the tub. Metaphorically of course.
Fargo, your dad is not gone, you can visit him via your memories. He is never going to be completly gone unless you have a frontal labotomy. You want to visit him, close your eyes and remember.
Right?
I had to re-read those last couple of sentences TWICE before my brain would see "organism" instead of "orgasm".
Not that it isn't funny your way, too.
I went through that with my father too. The feeling that it was good he was no longer suffering, the relief, and then the reality that I couldn't see him in the flesh. I think that's perfectly normal.
You're still calling her Mrs. Farrago, so are you two divorcing or are you trying to work it out?
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