If you read the previous post, you already know that my lovely mare passed away Friday night. After many wonderful years, it was time to let her go. She had been through a lot in recent months and in the end I had to face the fact that the battle had gone on long enough and the kindest thing I could do for her was to give her some rest. While she has finally found some peace…I can’t say that I have found it yet, but I’m trying.
In the midst of my grief, I have taken up picturing her everywhere I go. Today on my run, she trotted along happily, occasionally speeding up to run circles around me. Then, when I was driving and had to accept that she would not fit into the car, I imagined her standing on the roof, her mane blowing wildly in the wind. Things got a little crowded in the kitchen while I was making lunch, but I’m used to maneuvering around two big dogs, so what was one more horse in the mix?! My all-time favorite so far, was seeing her standing in the bathroom, taking up the entire floor space as I took a shower. Initially I had considered having her in there with me ( it happens to be a particularly large shower) but then I remembered how much she hated getting her feet wet and decided that that was completely unrealistic ;).
As we speak, she is standing in my living room with her head reaching over the sofa so she can peek over my shoulder while I’m sitting here writing. She might have prefered to stand beside my desk, however that spot was already taken by my golden retriever.
It gives me a sense of comfort to see her all around me. A gut-wrenching-brings-tears-to-my-eyes sort of comfort I really can’t describe any other way. I miss her. My body literally aches when I think about her being gone and I suppose it will be this way for a while, but at least I can still see her anytime I want…
This isn’t my first experience with imaginary individuals. To tell you the truth, I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. When I was a teenager I seriously considered the possibility that I was insane. Then, in my twenties, I wondered if perhaps I was psychic because the images can be so vivid and (don’t take this the wrong way) they have been known to talk. Now I realize I am neither. I’m not nuts or clairvoyant… I’m just a writer.