The day that I didn’t want to arrive, had arrived. The protective father in me wanted to put his foot down and tell her that we were not going to take the long awaited drive to the barn, but the father in me also knew that there needed to be closure on a horrific event that left both my daughter and her equine friend in need of healing, a healing that was a year and six months delayed due to the recovery she made from her life threatening injuries from the freak accident that day at the show. As we got in the car and a veil of silence fell over the both of us, I knew that she was excited yet fearful that the bond they once shared, might not exist anymore, a bond that was so strong and loving but a bond that was also dealt a severe blow due to the accident.
As we started to make our way to the barn, I could only feel fear on multiple levels. Fear that she would want to compete again. Fear that she would be crushed and set back if the bond that they had was non- existent and lost. Fear that at the last moment, she would not be able to go through with the reunion and fall into a depressed state. As we drove, my mind went back to that day, the day that our lives were changed in an instant.
She had cleared the first two jumps with ease and as they prepared to jump the third jump, he made a misstep, got caught up on the jump and started to falter on the landing. As they came down, he was more concerned about protecting my daughter and while trying to do that very thing, he ended up rolling not away from her, but over top of her as they crashed to the ground. As things went into slow motion and my prayers were being said at lightning speed, the dust cleared and she lay lifeless on the ground. A silence came over the crowd and as paramedics rushed to her side, her equine friend stood silent and still next to her and at one point bowed down and tried to nudge her to life again as she lay there barely breathing. Amongst all of the confusion that was going on, the last words she spoke to me before going into complete shock, were words of a promise, a promise from me to her that I would watch after her boy and not put him up for sale. A promise that when she recovered, we would let him know that he wasn’t at fault. I promised and they took her away to an awaiting helicopter that would transport her to the trauma team that awaited her at the hospital.
After the initial assessment when she arrived at the trauma center, I was graced with the following words from the medical team. Your daughter has suffered a great trauma to her body and with thirty nine broken bones, a crushed rib cage, bruising of the heart and two collapsed lungs, we remain hopeful but the outlook is grave. I just nodded and continued to pray that God would guide the surgeons and trauma team and that he would let her heal in some fashion, even if it was not perfect. After three separate surgeries it was announced that she was stable and we would have to wait for days to come to access the long term damage if any. Exhausted , I left the hospital and drove to the barn to check on her horse, her soulmate. When I arrived, the vet had just finished his assessment and said that there was no long term damage but he sensed a deep depression in her horse, something that he rarely sees, but when he does, it is reason for concern as it sometimes leads to death, comparable to a broken heart in a human. Each day that I would visit and I did this every day for one year and six months faithfully, he would just stand out in the furthest corner of the pasture. The other horses seemed to sense his loss and would keep their distance and allow him the space to heal and the time needed to do that. Each day for one year and six months, I would tell him that it wasn’t his fault and hoped that he would hear it from that far corner of the pasture. I remember that day and the following year and a half and it will always be etched in my memory for ever.
We were finally on our final approach to the barn and the tensions that should have been present in the car and my daughter were over shadowed by a very confident calm, a peace that I couldn’t describe. Saturdays at the barn are always filled with people coming and going, the sounds of laughter and friendship and the sounds of horses being walked through the aisles. As expected, the sun was out and the barn was packed with people preparing to ride and have a good time. As we approached the barn, parked and exited the car, I knew that this day was needed and vowed in my mind to be there for her no matter what the outcome would be.
We walked into the barn that day it was almost like we had flicked a switch on the wall. As we walked down the aisle, the barn got quiet and the patrons seemed to move to the sides of the aisles to let us through. There were nods of appreciation and tears of joy and disbelief. As we went further down the aisle and headed for the tack room, she opened her locker and grabbed a simple pair of reins and started to walk toward the pasture that her best friend was in. As we got closer, she started to call his name in the most gentle and amazing way. She opened the gate and asked me to wait outside the gate as she went to put closure to some unfinished business. As she walked towards the far part of the pasture, softly calling his name, he slowly turned around and for the first time, his ears perked up and he started walking towards her. They met in the middle of the pasture and he put his head down on her and she put hers down on him and they shared a moment together that was healing and magical at the same time. She started to walk with him to the fence and as she put the reins on and climbed the fence, he stood motionless as she mounted him bareback and began to walk him around the pasture. Almost on cue, the other horses in the pasture gave space and watched as the tears ran down my daughter’s face, her best friend stood proud and tall, free from all guilt as they were once again reunited. On the walk back to the barn, we noticed that everyone had stood motionless and silent as they watched a love story play out in the pasture. As we approached the gathering of people, they were all in tears and they welcomed her back with a multitude of hugs and smiles. As I stood in the background as this was happening, the barn owner came over to me, put her hand on my shoulder and smiled as she said the world just watched a miracle be performed today
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