My Mom and the Impact of Horses

My mom has one of those personalities that just draws people to her. Maybe it's not only her personality though. Maybe it's just something about her, something that she reflects in her movements, her speech; or maybe it's just her. Whatever it is, my mom is simply one of those people you find yourself wanting to be around. It may be because she's always smiling, or maybe it's because she goes after what she wants. It could it be that she creates fun; She really does, no matter whether your grocery shopping, sitting on a covered porch sipping beer because the rain washed away the sunshine or just chatting on the phone on your way to work, she has a way to make you smile. Trust me, she's my mom, if anyone could find fault in her, it would be me. Like everyone else though, she has her faults, but that's not what I'm posting about today.


To hear my mom speak of her childhood, you'd think you were sitting around a campfire listening to tall tales of Paul Bunyan and Babe his blue Ox. My mom has some real hum dingers, and yet her stories are also very sad. They're stories of a young girl who did crazy things like ride her horse across a golf course, sneak out in the middle of the night to steal away the local camp ground's pastured horses for a midnight ride, and ride her horse miles and miles to a horse show, show, then ride them back, ribbons in tow. They get crazier, like the time a serial killer cornered her in her apartment when she was a young woman, and how she was hit on by one of the Allman brothers in a Florida bar. Some are shocking, like how her father was imprisoned when she was just a young girl, for stealing cars off the assembly lines and selling them at his car lot. Her memories of visiting him in prison during holidays and weekends are surprisingly told with a smile and a laugh. "Doing that was just normal to me." she has told me many times. My mom and her father were very close, despite his faux pas. When he died in 1994, when I was 14, I felt very sad that I didn't get a chance to know him better. I bet he had some hum dingers of his own!


Mom's stories grow sadder though. As the youngest child of 4, her closest sibling was her brother Johnny. Johnny was only about 16 months older than she and because they were so close in age, they developed a very close bond right up until Johnny succumbed to Leukemia when he was only 16, and my mom 15. After Johnny's death, my mom found herself alone more than not. I won't continue with that part of her life, because it was a sad, lonely and desperate time for her. With her older sisters away at college, and a very grief stricken mother, one can only imagine what it was like for one lonesome 15 year old girl in the 1960's.

My mom and her brother, Johnny when they were youngins'


Johnny

Being a horse crazy kid growing up in the 1950's, 60's and 7o's may just have been her saving grace. With nothing but a few friends, her dogs and a horse from the age of 15 on up, she says to this day, and I believe her, that horses saved her life.


Shawnee 3 Shades

My mom worked and bought her own horses from the time she was 12. Believe it or not. She would purchase the horse, unbeknown to her mother, and keep it with her friend Ronnie's junk yard herd of horses down the road. Ronnie's dad was too much of a drunk to notice, and the mother probably just didn't care. Anyway, that's where her horses came and went. Her many horses. She also had an aunt and uncle who owned a beautiful white fenced farm where she was able to keep her horses over the winter.


What For - one of my mom's many horses.


My mom (13) and a fat little Shetland Pony. She taught the horse to park out :)

She'd buy an unbroke horse, break it, then sell it for profit, sometimes she'd sell a horse, regret the sale, then buy it back. One horse named Budweiser "Buddy" has a special place in her heart. To this day, she credits that horse for getting her through her teenage years. She had him winning barrel racing competitions, keyhole and pole bending. I don't know how she did all that without lessons. I guess in those days, you didn't need fancy and loads of money, all you needed was a willing horse and lots of gumption. Regardless, my mom bought and sold Buddy twice. I know that he was her "heart" horse, because she still just goes on and on and on about him.


Budweiser, my mom's favorite horse. I think she was about 18 here. The horse was 6 or 7.

I love that she taught herself to ride. I know that to hear someone say that sounds ludicrous, but to see my mom ride, well let me just say that she can and still does ride circles around my lessoned behind. She may not look equitated, but when she sits on a horse there's just something that looks free about it.


Lady the horse

I know that sounds totally corny, but she just makes me want to throw away all of my lessons, get rid of the fancy equipment, boots (maybe not the boots) and crap, and just hop on a horse and ride for the fun of it. No more worrying about equitation, positioning and headsets. But as usual, I'm getting off topic.

To think that from the age of 15 or so, my mom had already had quite a life. A father in prison, an ill sibling who tragically died, a mother gone with grief. She very easily could have gotten into trouble, it wouldn't have been shocking if she had. She didn't go that route though. Instead she chose her horses. I can't say that she didn't get into some trouble, but to look at her now, you'd be hard pressed to know that she ever lived a hard day in her life. I think that she is just one of those people that goes after what they want. She never let life get in her way. She wanted a horse, she got one. She want, she get. She still does that. Of course, had I gone out and gotten a horse when I was 12 without permission, I would have been in some T.R.O.U.B.L.E.




Buddy and my mom

When I was born, my mom's love of horses was passed on to me. She had me in the saddle before I could walk. I'd sit in front of her in the saddle on her chestnut Quarab mare, Mariah, and we'd ride and ride. When I got older, I sat behind her in the saddle; my tiny arms clutched around her waist as we galumped down country roads. When I was 8, my mom bought a horse (Red Julio), a deep sorrel QH, that I learned to ride on. From there I guess she allowed me to take over. Until Lady, she rarely ever rode. It was my turn, I guess.

Unlike my mom, I grew up in a stable (no pun intended) household. Both parents, love at all times, comfort, a horse (bought and paid for by my parents), and security. I don't think that horses did for me, what they did for my mother. How could they have? They did provide me with priceless memories and perhaps in a way, they saved me from loneliness too. Sometimes when I felt like I didn't want to lay my problems on to others, a horse was and still is my only way out. I could and can ramble and ramble to a horse. They may not listen, but their presence was enough. I always felt better. I think that's how it is for all of us horse crazy people.

I love to hear how horses have impacted peoples lives. Have they saved yours? Made it better? Or are they more of a burden? I think that's possible too.