5 Years Ago

January 16th has come and gone. This year I didn't even notice. Another year has passed, making it 5 years ago that I cradled Mister's head in my lap for hours, when he couldn't stand, waiting for the vet to euthanize him.

This year I didn't cry. I wrote no sad stories. I didn't feel my heart break all over again. That makes me feel guilty. How could I forget? How could I not wonder what life would be like had he lived? How could I not shed a single tear?

Mister was my world, my rock, my horse. When life seemed to be kicking my butt, he was there to carry me away. He understood me when no one else did. He was there when no one else was. He kept my secrets and inspired my dreams.

It sounds so silly to give so much credit to a horse. Most likely all he ever really knew was that I had carrots in my pocket and if I was crying that meant that he would have to get them himself or wait forever listening to me babble away and cry. Horses don't understand our words or why we are feeling the way we are feeling. They understand that a show of anger means to stay clear, that crying delays the treat giving, and that a laugh is a good thing. They get this from experience and body language. There is a human need to project ourselves onto our horses and believe that they have human qualities. It's a comforting thought that they would understand every word and yet, still keep all our secrets.

I once read somewhere that every horse person has a once in a lifetime horse. I believe Mister was mine. Mister was like an extension of myself and when he died, I felt like a part of me died with him. A part of me was just ripped away and sent on to heaven with him. It's a part of me that I'd like to have back. It was the part of me that knew everything would always be OK; the part of me that knew it was OK to dream, that nothing was impossible, and that a two-minute gallop could leave all my sadness and frustrations in the dust. I guess what I really lost with my horse was my connection to childhood, 5 years ago on January 16th... Rest in peace my sweet boy. I love and miss you daily, even if I don't always show it. You are always in the back of my mind.