Tears

I was doing some cleaning today. The house like everything else is a disaster. It's odd how when I clean I can find stuff from years ago that we no longer need. As Mike said, it's easy to tell when major events happened because we'll have weird stuff from that time of year because we just couldn't handle dealing with it at the time.


I'd stopped developing pictures years ago and have them all saved in random places. But the final few rolls of film (pre digital camera), I came across today. It was random from a few different trips and they made me both happy and sad looking through them.


Then I saw it. A picture I don't even remember taking but I will hold it near and dear to my heart. The minute I saw that picture I burst into tears. Even thinking about that picture make me cry. It must be the stress to be so overly sensitive. It was a picture of the four original horses we had when I was a teenager. More specifically it was a picture of my first two beloved horses. My dream horse and my riding horse, both hold a special place in my heart but oddly it was my riding horse that caused me to cry.


Oh how I miss him. It's been more than ten years and yet seeing his picture brought back all the fun memories of him. I don't have many pictures of him because he was here pre digital so for some reason I don't have many. It breaks my heart to know I don't have as many as some of the others. I didn't remember his expression to be so quirky but I miss it. Maybe because I saw him for his personality and not for just his looks. A little red Arabian gelding with an unknown history. Any time I rode him, it was like we were riding as fast as we could away from the gates of hell with fire licking at his heels. That boy could fly. I miss him and I miss my confidence in riding and the exuberance of being young (and not worrying about falling off and getting hurt). Gone are those days (along with the slim figure) but I remember riding him like it was yesterday.


Riding Zeke was like riding Ace. Now that Zeke is retired I miss riding and the challenges of riding an arabian. Lightening is ok but doesn't have that same zest (or worldly experience).


In my cleaning, I've also discovered bags of hair from horses that have since left us. I never take a large chunk, just enough as a keepsake. I should take more so I can send them in to make keepsakes for each one. It's hard to say goodbye but coming across these little bits of past horses sometimes is tougher than I thought. I know what we do is good for the horse and their overall health and safety but sometimes its' just plain hard to let go.


I may frame that picture. It's one of the last ones that I know I have developed. Maybe I'll pause in cleaning and take a break from finding these little bits of history of the Sanctuary. I'm no sure my heart can take much more. Unexpected sad tears are a bit hard to take some days.