The Only Constant in Life

With the losses of the past months I have realized that nothing is forever.  NOTHING!   The universe continues on its path of the sun setting if it was a happy day or dreadful day.  That sun it still goes down and it still comes back up the next day.   Because that day is gone and it's not meant to be forever.   Even when we want something real bad or think we need it to survive...we don't.   We can get on with a lot less than we had before.   We can make do.   We can make a new normal.   These thoughts of forever make me question the sheer logic of humans and why we would ever think things are forever...when the only constant in life is change.

What I have come to realize is that I no longer expect the pain to eventually stop.   I no longer expect that one day I will wake up and find myself not longing for one more ride or one more peek at the copper coat in the sunshine.   I now believe that the pain will just get dull.   It's like any trauma...it leaves a scar.   The wound will heal but the scar will always be there.    Sometimes it will be visible and sometimes it will be cloaked.    But the scar remains.  The scar manifests change.   I guess my hope is that the pain just turns to an ache.  That the knowledge will turn to wisdom.   That the memories that now bring tears will eventually bring a small smile.    The scar will be constant.   A reminder of not only the pain; but eventually the relationship.

 

I used to think I wanted closure.    How has this become part of my story?     Why is this new scar part of my journey?   What purpose is this serving me to grow?  I no longer believe that closure is an appropriate concept.   It implies an ending or finishing to the relationship.   But in reality, it lives on.   Through my heart; with stories and memories.   This relationship has simply changed.   Now I hope for understanding.   To help me through to lightness.   To guide me on the next part of my journey.  To no longer test my strength but help open the realm of understanding for me to move into the next phase.  To align me with where I am supposed go.   To help me be open to forgive and again share gratitude.   To show me how to embrace change.

I have been given feedback that my blog has been 'deep' or even 'dark' the last while.   Yes.  Yes, it has!   Lets face it folks, death is both deep and dark when you are on the loss side of it.   I have consciously decided to through down my invisibility cloak.   I have decided that at 40+ it's ok to be who I am and let others see sides of me that have been heavily guarded or not particularly pretty.   Because I think these two horses have given me powerful authenticity.   

Stories don't always have happy endings.   Love is sometimes tragic.   Brave sometimes means being brave enough to break your own heart.  And being in a place of stillness to find understanding isn't always comfortable.   But my hope is that I will look back on this moment in time as a sweet time of grieving.   I will acknowledge that I was mourning.  My heart was broken...but my life was changing.

RIP - Wanda 19 Jan 2004 - 1 Dec 2015

Wanda, the big mama of the farm, has made her way to find Izzy.   She battled so strong and so hard against what we thought was chronic gas colic since she foaled Stewy.  She lost weight.   I fed her more.    She coliced.   I called the vets.   She coliced again and again from Sept to Nov.   I had Drs Tom and Cassie on speed dial.   We made her comfortable through chemistry as the bouts became more frequent and their duration lengthened.   After battling for 3 days with down and out moments and brighter perky moment, I finally made the call that this can't possibly be gas.   On Nov 28th we loaded her into the trailer and delivered her to the University of Guelph for full diagnostics and treatment.   It was discovered she was in liver failure and had many complications which are yet to be hopefully explained through autopsy.

For days we suffered through the agony of waiting for the news from the team of highly experienced veterinarians that were working on her case.   They would call with news that she was the same or maybe slightly improved.   They would call with news that she was moved to isolation and was presenting new signs.   They would call with news that her blood work had come back again or such and such test was completed or that they were regrouping to try and brainstorm for new root causes.   She was a unique case.   One that baffled the top doctors at the university.

The waiting can kill you.   The not knowing.   The wondering if you are doing the right thing.   You make a decision and then you wait for the universe to have its turn to give you an answer.  It feels like the consequences unfold out of your hands.   There are so many untamed and miserable thoughts that  seem so clear, yet unclear when you are in those quiet moments waiting.   The most prevalent being that, you chose wrong.   Being a custodian of another life is no small responsibility.   It puts you in a position to decide.   To chose.   To live with the decision you make; forever.

Life is always better than dying...until it's not.  Even if letting a horse die is the right thing to do; it's not what owners are built for.   I don't like to lose and death feels like the ultimate loss...even when it's not.   She let us know it was time after nearly a week.   In my naive arrogance I believed she would have colic surgery.  She would need after care.   She would return home and see Stewy grow up to be a champion.  Isn't that what the fairy tales read like?   But this story doesn't have a happy ending.   This story is the reality of being a farmer, a horse owner, a human.   This story is about all horses and all horse owners at some point in their journey together.   Horses are one of the strongest, most benevolent creatures that God has graced us with taming.   Yet they are so incredibly fragile.   But if we listen really close and we open our hearts; shed our egos, we get a connection to these creatures that defies magic.    We can ask this deep question of life choice and we can know it's right.  Wanda gave us her blessing to help her cross over.   To end her suffering.   She expressed that her purpose here was served and that she was ready.  We can know that we did everything we could even when it's hard to shake that feeling that you could have done more.   

I honour her for giving me 2 of the most precious gifts she could have given me.  She gave me 2 additional lives; that have enriched my life beyond gratitude.   She gave me her 2 best creations and for that I will always be grateful to her.

Wanda was a fiery red head.   She had an opinion and she was clearly a mare that you asked; not told and could not be bought.  It was the part of her character that made her a wonderful mama.    She was affectionately known as "Chubbers"!   Food was her #1 motivator!    She was a curvy girl and her solid big bone was the foundation of some of the best breeding stock.   She was our foundation mare at the farm.  The foundation of our little herd.   Her cheerful whinny and brilliant copper penny shine will be truly missed.   

Run free you stoic girl...find Izzy.