If you follow me on Facebook, you probably know that I lost one of my horses last Thursday night. It was sudden and unexpected, and I am heartbroken. We still don’t know cause of death, but the vet is running some tests. It’s been less than two years since I lost my other mare, Lilly, way before her time. To have owned horses for 21 years and never even had one with a major illness, then to have two amazing, young, seemingly healthy horses die in such a short period of time has really been difficult for me.
Hubby went into work late on Friday so we could bury her. She had passed after Farmboy had gone to bed for the night, so I got him dressed Friday morning and took him outside to explain to him what had happened and let him say his goodbyes to Rena.
Oh my sweet little boy, seeing Mommy cry was too much for him. A look of terror was on his face as he started sobbing. After all, something horrible had to have happened to make Mommy cry. I dried my tears and explained to him that Rena had died and Daddy was digging a hole so we could bury her. He took the news well, but it’s difficult to understand the enormity of death at 3 years old. He still thinks Daddy can fix the chickens we butcher.
Farmboy wanted to ride the tractor with Daddy, so I took him over to where the hole was being dug. Hubby came over and gave us a big hug and kissed me on the forehead. Farmboy, whose boo-boos can be fixed with a kiss, asked me, “Mommy, do you feel better now?” Oh, if only a kiss could make this all go away. I want so badly to wake up and find that it’s all been a bad dream.
The rest of the day, Farmboy’s focus was on making me feel better. I got lots of hugs and cuddles. Then this conversation happened:
Farmboy: Mommy, are you upset?
Me: Yeah, I’m sad.
Farmboy: You want applesauce to make you feel better?
Me: Do you want applesauce?
Farmboy: Yeah. Do you want cinnamon?
Me: Yeah. Do you want to help me sprinkle the cinnamon?
He’s such a sweet boy. Love how he wants applesauce with cinnamon, but he turns it around to convince me that I want applesauce with cinnamon. That skill will turn around to bite me someday.
Then he woke up Saturday morning and asked if Rena was still gone. “Yeah, Buddy, she’s still gone.” It hurt to say, but at least I didn’t start crying as I said it. I guess that’s progress.
Six horses seems like so much less than seven. Feeding only six seems so strange. Losing Rena has left a giant hole in my herd and in me. Thank God for my little man who can help me smile through the grief.
“Do you give the horse his might?
Do you clothe his neck with a mane?
Do you make him leap like a locust?
His majestic snorting is terrifying.
He paws in the valley and exults in his strength;
he goes out to meet the weapons.
He laughs at fear and is not dismayed;
he does not turn back from the sword.
Upon him rattle the quiver,
the flashing spear, and the javelin.
With fierceness and rage he swollows the ground;
he cannot stand still at the sound of the trumpet.
When the trumpet sounds, he says ‘Aha!’
He smells the battle from afar,
the thunder of the captains, and the shouting.” Job 39:19-25