Monday, August 31, 2009

The Accident -- Part 6



Please note: this story is fiction, with some true facts.



It was four years after I was born. My parents decided to move back to my mom’s old homestead. My dad was a lawyer and he knew how much my mom loved living on the farm. She thrived in the openness and the caring for life. After all, that was why she had become a veterinarian. My dad’s firm had a satellite office within a 45-minute drive; an easy commute he though. The read deciding factor however, was the knowledge of my mom being pregnant with my younger sister Jill.

Life in the country was quiet, serene, but far from easy. Even though we didn’t have cows, chickens or a cornfield, we had horses. My mom loved horses, and she taught both Jill and me how to ride at a very young age. We learned how to feel the rhythm, glide our body with theirs, and understand the movement of the horse’s silent musical time – to flow with the animal as one.

My favorite way to ride was bareback; here you could feel the movement of the horse’s muscles. It reminded me of riding in a smooth, high-powered convertible sports car. Both left you with memories of freedom and feeling of empowerment over the constraints of life.

Early on Mom taught Jill and me two very important lessons. First, always be aware that freedom does not travel alone; it enlists danger as a passenger. Second, sometimes the least unexpected sound can spook the horse into unpredicted movements and situations. Always expect the unexpected.

One cool spring evening a light rain was falling and the unexpected was looming around the bend. It was on this evening an engine sputtered, the muscles stopped, the phone rang. A tractor-trailer had crossed the line of the narrow, winding road that led to our farm. In an instant, my father’s life was taken.

The memory of that evening always brings tears to my eyes. Tonight was not any different, as I wiped the wetness from my cheeks.

It is the sound of Jill and my mom crying, though, that stops the running reel of film from that pain memory.

Pic credit: http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_182/1188917300w1WoX1.jpg

Friday, August 28, 2009

The First Show




My memory replays moments of Phantom and I performing in the show ring.

The month was January, Phantom had been my Christmas gift. She was four-years old then, and I had just a few months to gain her confidence. I was only twelve when I first saddled her sleek, black back with a matching English saddle. It only took a few times around the ring. I knew we were the perfect riding team.

In April we made our debut, and as I predicted, we made a striking twosome. Sitting straight back in my saddle, heels pressed down, toes pointed in towards Phantom’s belly, I guided her along the dirt riding ring. Dressed in formal black riding attire, my long blonde hair was pulled back, anchored with a black velvet bow. My tight riding gloves gripped the leather reins with confidence. My body moved up and down to Phantom’s stride in perfect musical rhythm, as we trotted into to my favorite-recorded piece of music, The Entertainer. Although we didn’t win first place that evening, a respectable third and the opportunity to ride again in the Championship the next evening, was a wonderful compromise. We placed second in the Championship.


Jill calls me back from old memories to the birthing of new ones.

“Jodie, isn’t this just unbelievable?”

Her smile and watered eyes bring goose-bumps to my arms.

Mom is stroking Phantom calmly, whispering, “Almost there Phantom. Almost there.”

Once again my mind wanders back, to an earlier time when my father was with us.


Thursday, August 27, 2009

Rebirth -- Post 3

My eyes are fixed on Phantom as she lay on her side in the green hay and golden straw mix; her nostrils, open wide, reminding me of dark caverns as she breathes heavily in and out. She is an American Saddlebred, 5-gaited horse, standing 17-hands tall, her coat the color of midnight. Even while laying still on her side on the verge of giving birth, her muscular, dark body is impressive.

My mom is kneeling beside her. She is calm, smiling while stroking the mare’s black, swollen belly. I watch her as she bends further down, whispering into her ear, “Almost there Phantom, almost.”

Witnessing the calming effect my mom’s soft voice has on Phantom my damp eyes watch the play of life moving from scent to scene. My heart is pounding fast and hard, while memories of Phantom and I in the show ring together, reel through my mind like a silent film.

“How much longer, mom?”

“It won’t be long now Jodie.” Phantom’s breathing becomes heavier.

“She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?” Jill asks.

“Yes, honey, of course. She’s a strong mare and she’s young.”

My mom’s reply is full of strong conviction from many years of delivery newborn animals. Slowly Jill and my worries begin to fade, like the sunset descending behind the mountains.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Rebirth continues

With the dishes clean, I peel off my yellow skinned gloves. Within moments I hear my younger sister Jill call out to me in her screeching adolescent voice, “Jodie, Jodie, hurry!”

Frantically running out of the house, I slip on the small brown and orange braided rug outside on our painted porch; landing with a thud on my leg. Laughing at myself for being such a klutz, I look up to see Jill waiting impatiently outside the barn. Yelling to her with excitement, “Jill, is it time?”

“Almost! Mom says it won’t be much longer. You know how I thought it was going to be gross? Well, I don’t think that now. It’s going to be just amazing. Hurry, Jodie!” Smiling, Jill scurries into the building.

Quickly picking myself up, I begin running over the dry road as the small dust storm brought on by my leather cowboy boots appears to be chasing me. Turning into the opening, I see our two old and faithful golden retrievers, Ying and Yang, outside Phantom’s stall door. Standing still and alert, watching, like sentries guarding precious cargo.

Walking swiftly down the short, dirt and saw-dust-covered hallway, I stop at the opening of Phantom’s room. I watch Jill standing inside the stall; her thin arms are folding tightly over her undeveloped chest, smiling, while tears stream down her young, freckled face.

Whispering thoughts out-loud, “I can’t believe we’re going to see the birth of our first foal. What a beautiful night. I wish dad were here to share this with us.” Jill looks up at me with her green eyes as a veil of sadness begins to shadow her face; silently, nodding her head in agreement.

Looking down at Phantom, I remember our days together in the show ring. The blue ribbons, the trophies, and the bond we share together as a team – horse and rider. Our bond is one of respect for each other, a respect that I will always treasure.

Now Phantom and I have another bond to share – the birth of her first foal. I can feel goose-bumps forming as the blonde hair on my arms stand to attention and tears slowly drop onto my cheeks. The tears drop one by one, like the cool spring drizzle outside.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Rebirth

Quietly standing in front of the double metal sink inside our 1920’s farmhouse, my right hand moves quickly over the white plate. Watching the clear water erasing the foamy suds, my mind is also moving in circles. Spring is a bittersweet time of year for me, filled with memories, and now, new beginnings.

Feeling the cool breeze, my senses pick up the smell of a refreshing rain shower, soon to be ushered in; replenishing the dry ground with life. I can't help but think of the new life that will soon arrive, as the soft air blows through our open kitchen window.

**

I will be away for about 10 days. I'll publish more of this short story beginning on Tuesday, August 25th. I hope you'll return and leave me with your thoughts.
smiles,