Sunday, December 4, 2022
Wednesday, September 7, 2022
Monday, July 13, 2020
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Friday, April 6, 2012
I sat and watched the sun rise over the
horizon. The variety of colors was stunning, and it made me homesick. Most
mornings found me cleaning stalls, getting to the barn before daylight to
ensure all the horses were fed and stalls were cleaned before the sun rose. My
routine was a five day a week gig, mostly to save me from getting a regular
job. Dad insisted that as long as we had horses to ride and take care of that
they would keep me busy enough that I wouldn’t need a job. He was right. There
weren’t many extra-curricular activities on my daily schedule. Regular classes
were plenty to keep me occupied besides going to high school rodeos. Keeping my
grades up was top priority when it came to school, a high GPA would help me
when it came time to pick colleges. My interests weren’t truly in going to get
an education, or even going for the sake of getting to college rodeo. I just
wanted out.
Away from the drama, the sympathetic smiles from the folks at the grocery store…the gas station…the Mexican food joint... nowhere in our small town was I safe from the tilted heads and muted smiles. Most of them said nothing, but some were nosy, as people by nature are. “Hi honey. How’s your momma? Doin some better I hope. Ever get that mess with that horse sorted out? Such a shame that familys get into things like this. Tell your daddy hello for me, take care!” And off the concerned bystander would go, without letting me have a word edgewise. Odd as it may have been, I was better at just nodding and smiling, rather than rattling off some contrite bit of nonsense that didn’t bear repeating. My mother had raised me to have manners, it wasn’t that I was trying to be rude to the folks that expressed their concern over the situation. Quite the opposite. My manners were better if I could keep my tongue between my teeth, without letting the general populace truly know how I felt. One of my favorite songs had a line in it about how if “people knew how I really felt, most folks wouldn’t like me anymore.” That sorta summed me up on most days.
The rodeo grounds were nearly deserted. Trash blew here and there, scuttling along the tall chain link fence that ran the length of the frontage road. New road construction had threatened to take away most of the rodeos grounds here, the arena itself would've been turned into an overpass. The outcry from the locals staved off the assault, but who knew how long it would last? I shook my head as the sound of a dumpster's lid banged in the breeze.This wasn't one of the biggest rodeos, but it was one of the oldest. The long rows of stalls had once been home to dozens of racehorses; quarter horse races had once been held here year round. Remnants of the track were still visible in spots, most of the track had been converted into parking many years ago. It made my heart hurt, that so much of this place was a part of rodeo's history and would be torn to the grand for something newer...fresher, more modern. It just didn't make sense to me.
Away from the drama, the sympathetic smiles from the folks at the grocery store…the gas station…the Mexican food joint... nowhere in our small town was I safe from the tilted heads and muted smiles. Most of them said nothing, but some were nosy, as people by nature are. “Hi honey. How’s your momma? Doin some better I hope. Ever get that mess with that horse sorted out? Such a shame that familys get into things like this. Tell your daddy hello for me, take care!” And off the concerned bystander would go, without letting me have a word edgewise. Odd as it may have been, I was better at just nodding and smiling, rather than rattling off some contrite bit of nonsense that didn’t bear repeating. My mother had raised me to have manners, it wasn’t that I was trying to be rude to the folks that expressed their concern over the situation. Quite the opposite. My manners were better if I could keep my tongue between my teeth, without letting the general populace truly know how I felt. One of my favorite songs had a line in it about how if “people knew how I really felt, most folks wouldn’t like me anymore.” That sorta summed me up on most days.
Friday, March 16, 2012
I shoved my way out of the truck, barely able to stay on my feet. My left leg had been denied blood flow for an undetermined amount of time, so it started to tingle no sooner than I put weight on it. It went from a vague tingle to feeling like needles were skewering my flesh from every angle within a few steps out of the truck. I kept the phone clutched in my hand, like my life depended on it. Dad would be back soon, ready to load horses and try and get home for a few days between rodeos. It was hard to stay on my feet as my legs protested the unwelcome movement, but I dragged myself into the trailer anyway. Knowing the horses were fine put me at ease, along with the edges of daylight that were growing as I looked out the window. The sun's glow grew across the horizon, broadening, brightening as it grew. Slivers of orange, pale yellow, pink and deep red scattered across the sky as the sun itself grew ever higher. Exhaustion was starting to take hold of me, I could feel it to my very bones.
Our time here had been a whirlwind of emotions, literally the highest of highs, and more recently, the lowest of lows. Keeping my emotions in check was an ever evolving battle, I could never tell from one day to the next what a song on the radio would make me feel or think. Getting a handle on my emotions was all that stood between me and a "normal" life. Nothing had been normal since the accident, I wasn't sure if I knew how to be "normal" anymore. Sunshine found it's way through the trailer window as I pulled a sleeping bag up around my ears. Dad wasn't too high on changing and laundering sheets, so rather than having sheets on the mattress, we threw sleeping bags in there and slept in them. As the morning sun warmed my face, I was finally able to shut my mind. A constant flurry of thought finally started to slow, and I welcomed the change. Nothing in the world would bring my brother back, and there was only one solution that I could see to the problem that my family faced. Albeit an unwelcome one at that--I didn't want to think about it. Sleep finally came. Dreams were always vivid, pleasant at times, others, not so much. They were worse when I was tired, they were more realistic then, like a waking dream.
Our time here had been a whirlwind of emotions, literally the highest of highs, and more recently, the lowest of lows. Keeping my emotions in check was an ever evolving battle, I could never tell from one day to the next what a song on the radio would make me feel or think. Getting a handle on my emotions was all that stood between me and a "normal" life. Nothing had been normal since the accident, I wasn't sure if I knew how to be "normal" anymore. Sunshine found it's way through the trailer window as I pulled a sleeping bag up around my ears. Dad wasn't too high on changing and laundering sheets, so rather than having sheets on the mattress, we threw sleeping bags in there and slept in them. As the morning sun warmed my face, I was finally able to shut my mind. A constant flurry of thought finally started to slow, and I welcomed the change. Nothing in the world would bring my brother back, and there was only one solution that I could see to the problem that my family faced. Albeit an unwelcome one at that--I didn't want to think about it. Sleep finally came. Dreams were always vivid, pleasant at times, others, not so much. They were worse when I was tired, they were more realistic then, like a waking dream.
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