Show Mom Re-rider

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.