I see you.
I see you older “re-rider”
Maybe middle aged
A little more around than you were at 16
A little less fit.
You with your aches and pains
Your stretch marks and scars.
Trying to get your foot in the stirrup
Trying to walk straight the next day.
Praying you don’t hit the dirt
You know how hard it will be to get back up.
Lunging your horse to “get the fresh out”
Riding a buck seems like a distant memory.
I see you.
The unsung hero- the show mom
You’ve watched dozens or hundreds of lessons,
Audited the clinics, paid for the training
You worked two jobs, three
Had to pay for your child’s passion
The endless hours, hours upon hours on your feet
Learning to sew or glue on jewels
Trading your hobbies for theirs.
Drove endless miles,
Learned to pull a trailer
You gave it all to help them succeed.
I see you
Up before dawn to feed the ponies
Washing, banding, clipping
You watched, asked questions and learned it all
Your child’s pony would look the best
Even if you didn’t sleep
You waited up for the vet
Researched every ailment
Consoled every tear
You stacked the hay and
Carried the endless bags of grain
Your back remembers
But do they?
I see you.
Your kids are grown and gone
Their old horse stands waiting
It’s your turn in the ring
But it’s hard to start now
You know what you should do
But your old body protests too much
You see the sideways glances
The judgment
You hear them say how cute it is
Mom is trying to show
They forgot who got them where they are
You gave it all
Now you’re on your own
I see you.
You’re on your own.
Still washing, clipping, banding
Your own horse
No one makes sure your number is straight
No one makes sure your girth is snug
But you’re out there.
You’re doing it.
You’re keeping up with the kids
Select, senior, senior +, aged
You have your own division
Show mom has got this.
I see you.
I am you.
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