A Little Help From My Friends

I was touched by the thoughtfulness of my daughter, Jürgen and several of my boarders today. As far as I know, they don't read my blog, (I don't think anybody really reads it, given how few visitors I get--and I've never had anyone leave a comment) and I hadn't said anything to them about how I've been feeling, but I guess they noticed.

They've been asking regularly, "How are you doing? Are you okay?" My answer has been, "Yeah, sure." Because I am okay. I'm healthy. I'm fitter than I've ever been. I actually like my personal trainer nearly all the time (although there were a few minutes last night when I told him that I took back all the nice things I'd said--he made me do two quadriceps exercises back-to-back, three sets each to exhaustion, so it was really 6 quadriceps exercises to exhaustion, with only a 10 second break between them. My quads won't speak to him at least until Monday, and they probably won't speak to me again until then, either.)

Anyway, I can't complain about too much, except that I miss Promise. I miss having her to look forward to, and there just isn't much joy in riding anymore as a result. I love Quila. She's a great mare, but age has caught up with her, and I've faced the fact that First Level is her limit. She is a First Level horse, and the perfect volté (which we can now do) is about the best she can manage at trot. At canter, we've got counter canter and simple changes, but that won't buy us a ticket to Second Level. Not without shoulder-in. So... it's been tough dragging myself to the barn. Tough getting enthused about running the place.

What have they done, these beloved people? First, they talked to dear, less-than-enthusiastic-about-this-whole-horse-ownership-business-hubby (hubby, who has put me on restriction for horse purchases and trips to Europe), and laid out a plan for selling horses I own, setting out to buy a horse that I can ride and compete this coming year, and allowing me to retire Quila as I'd originally planned. And they've set the wheels in motion for doing so and begun to search. I'm grateful, because I haven't the heart or energy to look myself (nor did I have the nerve to ask hubby, who has been more than gracious over the years with my horse addiction) about another horse. Not with a kid in college.

And, they also came up with a business plan for the ranch, aimed at filling it with boarders and starting new programs that will be fun for everyone, programs they want to help run. They're infusing the place, and me, with a new energy.

Even though I'm crying as I type this, I don't feel quite so lost and hopeless. They gave me just what I needed.

It's Still Hard

This was the first weekend I've been back "in circulation" since I lost Promise. It wasn't easy.

I really haven't been riding much. I wouldn't be riding at all if it weren't for Quila... I don't have the heart for it right now... but she needs me. In her life, she's been through so much, and she's come to where she completely trusts again and she tries so hard for me--I could never let her feel abandoned. So I go out and ride her, at least 4 days a week, anyway. She likes Alena, and one of the barn moms spoils her, so I don't mind skipping one or two days, but never two in a row. It wouldn't be fair.

But it feels like all of my goals vanished overnight, like I have nothing to work toward for the first time ever, and I don't know how to deal with that. And with Quila, I'm still working on the same old things I've been working on forever. Her age, now, has put a ceiling on our achievements together, I'm afraid. The only difference in our riding is that my voltés are round and I don't lose the shoulders or the haunches anymore (or when I do, I know it and I know what I need to do in order to correct it). Small consolation.

I've been avoiding the horse world.

But this weekend was our chapter's first CDI***, and I'm on the board. I promised I'd scribe for the weekend a long time ago, and I didn't want to let the volunteer coordinator down. I saw some pretty amazing horses and some pretty amazing rides (and, unfortunately, some pretty painful ones, too). It wasn't easy. I enjoyed seeing my friends again, and a beautiful horse ridden well is always a joy to behold, but I couldn't help feeling my loss more sharply. The ache, which had started to subside just a little, came back even more powerfully, because I know what I lost.

I know grief is like that. I know it will pass, lessen and I'll be able to find joy in my sport again, but I sure can't find it now. I just want that mare back. The one I waited for, watched enter the world, and fussed over for those 5 long years until it would be my turn to ride her, and then my turn never came. The one whose hugs were almost as good as her mother's. Times like this I wonder "Why horses?" Mountain biking and wind surfing never broke my heart.