Have you ever had someone else’s life change in a great way, so you’re happy for them (kind of), but feeling pretty darn sorry for yourself, maybe (gasp) a bit jealous too, which makes you feel guilty and like a worm?
My dear friend and her husband are moving on to a new adventure, a new home, farther north in lake country. If I was them, I’d be ecstatic! But I’m not them, and I can’t convince them to adopt me. What?! You can’t be adopted twice in a lifetime?
What’s harder for me than the unknown of new people running the barn, and having my friend move away, is that, as silly as it might sound, I can’t see staying at the barn without her. It’s kind of like how I’ve never driven past my old hobby farm since I moved. When a door closes, I’d rather just quit passing by that door.
When I met Cheryle, my home had sold and I was going from having two horses in my back yard to selling one horse and finding a place to board the one I was keeping. I’ve boarded before and know from experience that a barn can go from heaven to hell in a heartbeat as various boarders and horses come and go and different people take care of the animals.
Cheryle’s barn was the first and last boarding facility that I looked at. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about — probably the usual horse care stuff and why I was looking to board in the first place. Did I start crying during that story or did I rage? I was prone to both in those days.
How do you explain that initial knowing? Those times when you meet someone and know this is exactly where you are supposed to be and this person is going to be an important part of your life in some way. That’s how it was when I met Cheryle. And this feeling turned out to be true. She made me feel so welcome, accepted and safe. The barn was a good place to recover from a hurting heart and sense of homelessness.
So I wonder, why can’t I have more time to enjoy what I’ve been enjoying? Why this change right now? I’m not ready for this (shakes fist at the sky)!
It’s not like I’m losing Cheryle completely. What’s 120 miles between friends? There are nice bike, horse and ski trails where she’s moving to. I imagine long weekends, camping or renting a cabin nearby.
This isn’t intended as a post about mourning loss but as a celebration of a wonderful friendship that I hope continues for many years to come.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I’m not sure whether I’m staying or moving on. Wherever I end up, I want to do a lot more trail riding this year and that means getting my trailer driving courage back. I haven’t had to haul myself for a couple years!
Author Elizabeth Jarrett Andrew’s has weekly writing prompts on her Facebook page. This week her prompt started out by saying: “There’s a traditional Zen story about a farmer whose horse ran away. “So awful,” his neighbors commiserated. ‘Maybe,’ he replied. Then the horse came back with two other wild horses. ‘So great!’ the neighbors said. ‘Maybe,’ the farmer replied. Then his son rode one of the untamed horses, fell, and broke his leg. ‘So awful!’ the neighbors said. The farmer: ‘Maybe.’ Then the army came through town recruiting, and passed the farmer’s son by because of his broken leg…
So you see, you never know whether an event is a blessing or a curse. I think it can be either, depending on how you look at it and react to it. It seems best to not judge things as good or bad but simply as what is. And to make the best of it, once again.