Past Memories

Through childhood memories I still recollect Mother always sounding like a broken record player. Every time I felt like throwing in the towel Mother would say, “ Now girl you get back up and try again, just brush yourself off.”   I weighed no more than one-hundred pounds with pride a graceful Monarch butterfly could crush. My mother’s words were never taken to heart, I always ran home, tears bursting at the seams.

  Today seemed   more humid than ever to me, maybe because the flood of rain we had the night before, but like any other month we loaded up our green broke horses into the rusty two-horse trailer. We blared country tunes as we sang to the top of our lungs the whole way to the state park, Mother seeing the worry on my face turned the stereo off. The trucks bench seat creaked underneath us in the silence, she finally broke out with, “Aw don‘t be getting all nervous on me now,” then she paused and gave me that suck it up look   “you‘ll do fine practice makes perfect.” Beads of sweat left a cool trail behind as I sat there, my face two- inches from the A/C vent. I imagined myself playing in the snow, making a snow angel instead of being out in the dead heat at a horse show in the middle of July. Reality sank in when I pried the old truck’s door open and stepped out into the sauna, the same familiar trucks and horse trailers lined the park arena.

  Quickly we unloaded our horses, far from what one calls a fine steed, my horse was just as unique as I. As I looped a couple secure knots, I pulled my chestnut Arabian close to the trailer as I ran over his sleek coat with a brush. Mother had already started on the to do list, registering for classes and saddling up. I always knew she wasn’t far because like any southern woman you would hear a distinct , “Hey Ya‘ll!” as she greeted fellow riders. I put the finishing touches on Diesel’s mane, something about him having a mohawk seemed to give him that racing edge. He gave a slight twitch as a horsefly landed on...