Beautiful weekend for riding...and, as always, writing!

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Farewell, Sweet Cappy

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The beauty of the sky Wednesday seemed a mockery of Cappy's relapse. Misty pastel hues a backdrop to his staggering back legs, pain accentuated by the awe of Mother Nature's handiwork. I raced into this awful beauty as I drove west to the vet's office to pick up a new round of steroids for Cappy, taking note of the irony. I was worried, but glad that I'd caught the change quickly, and grateful for my vet who made a special Christmas Eve morning drop so I could get my beloved Mustang dosed and back on track. I couldn't imagine what could have happened on Christmas otherwise. But, it happened anyway. As soon as it was light Christmas morning, I headed out for chores, eager to see Cappy's progress, his second dose of steroids hidden inside his favorite German cookie treat. Cappy was lying near the south side of the horse barn. I was relieved, thinking he'd finally been able to rest, until he tried unsuccessfully to stand. His fronts pushed his body up, so he wa...
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ONLY ONE MORE DAY

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     It's only one more day. One more day without him. One more day without his smile, his laughter, his dirty socks in the couch cushions, empty Dorito bags in the bathroom (yes, the bathroom).      Eight years ago my world was changed for all eternity. My sweet son, Robbie, gone.      I remember the moment I knew something was wrong. It was in the air as I walked up the steps. It was goosebumps on my skin as I stood in the doorway. There are so many things I remember but don't want to, and so many things I don't that I wish I could have back.      So now I have a new normal. Dreams sometimes bless me with his presence, younger or 16 year old versions, but never older. Last night I cried while watching a show, flashing ahead to future views of the characters' lives, children, laughter, playing, together. I will never know what he could have become. I will never hold his babies in my arms, snuggle them, kiss away their bo...
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'Tis the Season?

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I really thought this season was going to be different. Last week, I watched a ridiculous Christmas Hallmark movie...and enjoyed it! Our favorite Christmas tree farm advertised their upcoming hours, and I imagined Chad and I trekking through the fir scented rows to find a fat little tree to hang lights upon and place gifts beneath. Dare I say, as the holidays grew nearer, I confidently felt the jolliness that many associate with it all. Yesterday morning, Grief wrapped around me like a blanket. Uninvited, it slipped upon my shoulders, pushing out the previous week's dreams of holiday cheer.  Nothing out of the ordinary precipitated this heavy arrival, yet everything feels different now. Any desire to drag out Christmas decorations, hang lighted garland upon the mantle, jingle bells, or sing carols evaporated.   I can't help but compare this to what's been going on with Cappy, my poor, sweet Mustang gelding who has slid backward in his comfort level after one too many things...
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