Circles in the Sand
Circles in the Sand
Like Sand Through the Hourglass
Belinda Carlisle sang “Circle in the Sand” on her album “Heaven on Earth,” released in 1987. The song uses a circle to represent the cyclical nature of relationships and life itself. The circle in the sand symbolizes the desire to create something lasting, despite the knowledge that the waves will come and wash it all away. It asks us to hold onto precious moments precisely because they are fleeting.
The song’s bridge, “Sundown, all around, walking through the summer’s end,” speaks to the ending of all good things. Such is life. Summer ends. Autumn creeps in, whispering rumors of Winter’s killing frost. We all fall down.
These thoughts weigh heavy on my mind as October creeps closer to Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, then the dismal darkness of January through March. I understand why many animals hibernate.
For the first week of October, we traveled to Tennessee to visit my father. He has grown increasingly frail over the past couple of years, and I worry about his health. His weight has continued to drop, and he weighs less than me now. Significantly less than me. If I were the same weight as him, I would be unhealthy. Doubly so for him.
We brought him several rings of his favorite bologna from the small town of Yale, Michigan. Bologna is unhealthy, but at this point, anything he will eat is good food. I baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies and brought him some of the strawberry jelly and salsa I canned this summer. Hopefully, something will stimulate his appetite.
We brought our dogs with us, Gidget McFidget and Bruce Wayne. They are both seniors – Gidget is 15 and Bruce is 12. Even at 15, Gidget is feisty, but her vision and hearing are failing, and she sleeps about ninety percent of the time. Bruce is primarily Jack Russel terrier, so he’s still bouncing off the walls for half the day and napping for the other half. We took them with us because I worry about Gidget’s advanced age and dislike leaving her with other people when we travel.
There’s nothing I can do to stop the aging and decline of my father or my dogs. I know I am likely to outlive all of them, but I still try to delay the inevitable. The longer you live, the more losses you will endure. My father is my last living blood relative, and when he is gone, I will be the last one to carry on the family name. Without biological children, the line stops with me.
This trip also included pleasant moments. Nothing is either all good or bad, all dark or light. The natural rhythm of day into night shows this. If you can make it through the night, the sun will rise again.
Highlights of our trip included a visit to the Dale Hollow Lake State Resort Park where we had a nice lunch at a little restaurant inside the lodge. I captured several pictures of the lake on our visit.
I tried a traditional dish known as the Kentucky Hot Brown. It’s essentially a deconstructed turkey & ham club sandwich smothered in gravy and cheese, topped with bacon and tomato slices, and baked in the oven. It was tasty, but I couldn’t eat the whole thing.
We saw some deer.
And enjoyed some quiet contemplative time along the river.
On our drive home, we stopped at a Buc-ee’s to see what all the fuss was about. It was the largest truck stop I’ve seen, save for that one in Iowa on I-80. The Iowa one is a literal shopping mall with a food court.
Buc-ee’s had at least a hundred gas pumps, and the interior was massive. I didn’t take time for exploration. We were traveling with both dogs, so I handled dog duty while Jay ran inside, then he kept them occupied while I dashed into the store. My lunch consisted of a brisket sandwich, which was tasty but quite salty, and I couldn’t eat the whole thing. I shared a few bites with the dogs which was a bad mistake. A long car ride with gassy dogs is not my idea of a joyride. The homemade chips were excellent. I tried a candy called an Overbite, which is a chocolate beaver head filled with peanut butter. I thought it would be like a Reese’s peanut butter cup, but it was nothing like it. The chocolate was waxy, and the filling was runny and vaguely like peanut butter mixed with caramel but with a medicinal aftertaste. I ate only two bites of the Overbite. Zero stars. Do not recommend.
Now we are home, and fall is here. Winter cannot be far behind. We’ve turned on the furnace, and the fireplace is blazing right next to my desk. Gidget is fast asleep in her little bed in front of it while Bruce naps on the loveseat behind us. The sun has not yet risen but I am up as pain and worry have awakened me early.
Soon, the sun will rise and the day will begin. The dogs will awaken and demand their breakfast. I will face the beauty of another day with joy, and coffee. This day will not come again. Let us make the most of each and every moment. Joy is waiting for you if you choose to seek it.
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Lovely pictures. I appreciate your description of your dad. I don’t know how old he is, or you. Some years ago, I moved my demented dad and competent mom to an exteded care facility near me. It was a huge transition but she thrived with new people and activities for many years. She’s now 98 and frail, but still has her wits. It is so hard to watch from afar. My family name comes to an end with my generation too. None of the two male cousins with the name had children. My sister and I kept the name but she didn’t give it to her kids and I had none. It’s strange, but it happens. Thanks for writing.