One Year Later

One year ago today the vet came and euthanized my second horse.  It's a sad anniversary made all the more sad by the loss of a friend four days ago.  She was young, and one of those people who were full of life and managed to poke fun at any situation.  Taken too soon by a careless driver, she leaves a husband and young son behind.

It was my horse's time to go last year, but he was robbed of time by whatever accident caused that chipped bone in his hock.  My friend should have had many more years with her family and friends.  Time taken away from her by another person's poor decisions.  That the other person died too is no consolation.

My uncle died five days ago.  He lived a long life, surrounded by family and many friends.  Another person full of the joy of life with a grand sense of humour.  He will be missed just as much, but there is a sort of peace or conclusion that is lacking in the death of my friend.

Death is an inevitable part of life.  But sometimes it seems to come too soon and we struggle to come to terms with the loss, and grieve for what will never be.

Waiting for Time

It's not over for me. My horse is free of the pain that has been his close companion for the past years, but I'm still walking carefully around the edges of the hole in my heart and keep falling into it at unexpected moments. Tears burn the raw skin on my face. I don't know how many times I fell into that hole today.

I managed to walk past the place he went down several times without noticing, but the last time I went and stopped near the scars his hooves made in the grass, remembered and allowed the tears to come.

Compulsively checking his field for him has been a part of my mornings for the last months - today I looked away.

I find myself managing to get on with things and lose myself in tasks. I even managed to ride without slipping into the hole. Then I start thinking of things I need to do, and I come round to thanking those who helped me yesterday and before I know it the tears are falling again.

I have no doubt that I let him go at the right time. There are no more questions about it. Now is waiting for time to heal. For time to let the hole fill with memories and bury the raw wound of yesterday. For time that will allow the first memories to be of his life and not of his death.