Lost

Lost can mean so many things. Lost is a feeling, and a place, and where the diamond to my engagement ring now resides. The diamond my husband spent time picking out, the diamond he designed an engagement ring around is now gone, sitting on the ground somewhere, or maybe in a landfill. It could even be rolling around in my car, or be living in my housekeeper’s vacuum. Or maybe it is in the vacuum at the car wash. Maybe it is in a friend’s pool filter, or down the drain in my new bathroom. The key here is that I only know where it isn’t…. on my hand, in my engagement ring!!!!

I feel lost without it. I feel a strong sense of ominous loss. This has nothing to do with the replacement value and all about the emotional value. I can NEVER replace the diamond that my sweet husband chose for me. The diamond that absorbed all the excitement at the moment he asked me to marry him, the diamond that has been there every moment over the past 8 years of my life, and the diamond I made a special bequest of to my oldest daughter in my trust documents is gone.

It’s been two weeks and I still search the driveway, and my car, and the bedspread everyday. And I feel so sad, like I’m grieving and I can’t get over it.

“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” Winston Churchill

Every time Dylan makes a wish she wishes for a paint horse. Her love of horses is so deep and so strong that I worry about her not getting her own horse soon.

Having a horse as a kid made me such a better person. I learned to care for something that completely relied on me. At age 6, my first horse was a pony named Trigger. He gave me such a sense of independence while taking good care of me. He was fast enough to make me feel like I was flying, yet gentle enough to make sure I didn’t get hurt. He was such a great first horse.

My next horse was Mayday whom I loved for nearly 20 years. When I went away to college and my parents told me I could only keep one of my four horses she was the one I kept. Although I went to college in Northern California, I would often fly home for just a couple hours to ride Mayday. Just being near her cleared my head and made things right in my world.

It is no surprise to me that Dylan loves horses. But I was surprised the first time she rode alone. She was so natural, so sure of herself, so happy. She reminded me of myself as a kid. She reminded me what is missing in my own life.

The answer is simple. We need a horse. I need horse.