I am anxious around horses. They are uncomfortably large, feel to me unpredictably wild, and have those intimidating eyes which are eerily larger than mine. In my opinion, they are not to be trusted.
My daughter does not share my apprehensions - and hasn’t since she was three years old, the age she was when she talked me into letting her ride a horse for the first time. Since she was born, she has had almost a spiritual relationship with animals – calling out to the lost, the homeless, the sick, and the hurt. On the day she came into the world, two stray dogs wandered into our lives and found homes among those in the L&D waiting room. We joke about this still. We finally capped our animal count when we hit four rabbits, two stray cats, one very needy old dog, and a box of baby birds Adleigh was feeding with a dropper every 45 minutes in a desperate attempt to save.
She still takes in animals if my husband and I allow it, but these days she is filling her need to nurture by volunteering at a rescue ranch. While I’ve locked myself in the studio grumbling about deadlines, she’s out there loving and caring for those no one else would.
But today was different. Today I have the opportunity to help chaperone her and the other ranch hands on a short trail ride to the water crossings. It’s been a standard Missouri summer, with sweltering humidity and little breeze, the girls and the animals were feeling it. Everyone needed some time in the water. Still, I am embarrassed to admit, I was initially frustrated and annoyed by the request. I’ve been chasing my tail a lot these days as I try to juggle my own work, graphics deadlines, drawing students, and the new COVID confinements of my kids. A day on the water with my daughter seemed like another distraction in a long list of those I am trying to protect myself from. As a creative person, I am somewhat my own boss, but with that comes the added responsibility of pushing myself to work when no one is there, making me do it. It’s difficult to explain to those around me who assume being self-employed means a stress-free life of leisure and who typically seem offended when I say no to recreational activities.
‘No’ was certainly on the tip of my tongue, but I could not bring myself to say it. Adleigh was never one to need me often. Even as a baby, she barely wanted to be cuddled or held – her independent spirit causing her to be early to roll-over, crawl, pull-up, and walk away. The days when my daughter wants or needs me are slowly growing further and further apart. I cannot shake the feeling this is one of those moments I am supposed to grab and hold tightly. So, I suppressed ‘no’ along with the bombardment of anxious feelings because I am behind in my work and offer up a ‘yes’ to my daughter and her friends.
And that is how I got here, in my trail shoes, balancing on a pile of rocks waist-deep in the river, holding up a camera that I’m pretty sure is worth more than my car, in the middle of 5 horses that make me nervous and five teenage girls each laughing and jumping around. The splashes of water washing away the resentment I held for being there and bringing a smile to my face.
I fight against myself and the maternal instinct in me welling up to protect my daughter from the 1,000-pound animals she is taking into water over her head, and acknowledge that she is often called to the very things that make me uneasy. I must learn to trust her judgment.
This is new ground for me, and these days it feels as if I get it wrong more than I get it right. But I am thankful to have a daughter who can laugh and sometimes cry alongside me at the mistakes we make along the way. In the water with my daughter, I wonder how I could have ever thought there would be a moment more deserving of my time than the one I am standing in now. As I watch her riding bareback through a river on a horse she trained and helped nurse back to health, I cannot stop thinking about how beautiful she is, a delicate embellishment to a life I never thought I would have - strong, independent, free-spirited, brave, and compassionate.
She truly is an ornament of grace.
