Fireweed Makes Me Cry

I've found I'm the type of person who makes sure everybody is ok before I break down.  So for the last few days, the loss of Champ has hit me hard, hit me very hard.

Yes, my prior post reads true.  As a 50+ person, I'm moving on thanks to a 20+ Poco, an old campaigner as my husband calls him.  But the loss of Champ, a 12-year old horse that has filled almost every waking moment of mine for over twelve months, has left a huge hole that won't mend quickly.

For the last year I've ridden Champ.  If you go back to my original blog: http://www.50plushorses.blogspot.com/, you'll read our challenges of the last year starting with my first lesson, where I stood in tears outside Champ's stall...too afraid to go in.

I met those fears head on.  I did ride Champ, even in a horse show in October, placing in every class but more pleased about just being out there with him then the ribbons we brought home.

But today it's the emptiness of losing Champ and Fireweed blooming that brings tears to my eyes.

Last year right now, when the Fireweed was blooming, I was riding Champ.  I was so unsure of myself that each ride was as my husband calls it, "a Nervous Nellie" ride. 

I recall riding in the heat of July on Ladies Night.  It was hot in the arena and both ends of the barn doors were open.  Champ (actually all the horses) were nervous passing the end door of the arena as they usually enter the other side (I changed our entry point when I figured this out).

But I was Nervous Nellie, scared to death as I passed that end door that Champ would...I don't know.  Rear?  I've seen Champ rear and almost flip over, dumping our daughter.  Run away?  I'd surely fall off.  Shy?  Again, I'd surely fall off.

But none of those things happened even though he'd cock his ear and look concerned at the door.  Outside the door were acres of Fireweed.  So each time I passed that door, I'd say, "Look Champ!  Fireweed!"  And Champ would look and then we'd move on without any conflict.  Looking at the Fireweed calmed us both down and allowed us to continue without mishap.

Ladies nights in July became a success.  Soon I was saying, "Look Champ!  The leaves are turning!"  And on it went.

I had wanted to show Champ the Fireweed this year and say, "Look Champ!  Remember how afraid I was last year of the Fireweed and how confident I am this year?  We've come a long way, haven't we boy?"

But I never got the chance and I never will.  That is why Fireweed makes me cry.