I have learned so much about myself, and so much about myself has changed over the last six months I'm not sure where to start, other than to say I have lived a good life and I hold my breath in anticipation with what wonders life has yet to throw my way.
One thing I have learned a lot about the last three months is death. I have always felt I have a strong grip on death and the world, and losing two of the most important influences of my life in the span of two months hasn't changed that. Life is death. People, things, die and it leaves room for us to find new people and new creatures to touch our lives.
For now? My heart weeps in unabashed self pity. My father was one of the kindest, hardest working people I have ever known and my heart broke two weeks before he died when he wrote on his notepad "I don't even feel sick, I'm going to beat this." He wrote because he couldn't talk, eat, or breathe normally. But he had the strength to try and smile and write that.
My father will never meet a boyfriend of mine, let alone walk me or my sister down the isle. He will never see my first apartment, or house. My first funeral was my father's funeral. I don't blame cancer, or god, or the doctors or life. I accepted death as a part of life and that didn't change when death came knocking on my father's door... but I'm still really very sad to not have him in my life anymore.
My heart broke again today when I received an email about Katie. It told me about the wonderful family that adopted Katie, then how she went blind and hurt herself only to have to be put down. I haven't seen her for two years, but that mare, that ridiculous, haughty, accident prone horse was my world for nearly six years.
Katie was my world; she knew me. Katie was me as any other being could be me. I have never met a person, horse, or anything else that better fit me, and I doubt I will. I will not forget the cold winter nights I'd go to the barn and sit in her stall... she would come over and sniff my hair, then nuzzle my jacket. She loved when I wore nylon jackets and would rub her nose on my shoulder, snorting at the funny feeling and noise that the slick nylon produced.
I have a good life. I am lucky. But for now, my heart hurts.
