A Surreal Week - we cannot write the script

This week has not turned out as I expected it to. Briefly, on Tuesday our horse Autumn broke his leg and we had to have him "put down". As a parent this was one of the worst experiences ever. We have had him for over 7 years. During those years, Bee rode him 5-6 times a week. Lately, since he stayed here for Bee's second year of college, Rod has been riding him twice a week, and someone else at the barn has been leasing him.

Making the decision was difficult and saying good-bye to him was heart wrenching. I used work this week, as a distraction, but driving home today to face the weekend, I realized how surreal it has been. Pretty much since Tuesday night, I have just been putting one foot in front of the other. I actually have been pretty productive at work as a way to keep the grief at bay.

When there is a death of a loved one, all kinds of memories come back. The first time I saw him, the first time Bee fell off, the cross country course where they both galloped up a hill with huge smiles on their faces as they realized they could indeed do this, that same show when Bee took a jump without stirrups because she lost them, Bee's senior teen chapel when she talked about all that he taught her, them cantering in the rain after we moved to Huckins and Denise made it clear to Autumn that he was going to behave, GMHA and watching him and her master the 3 phases, those hours of watching her and him work hard and develop into a single unit, her saying at their first show "Where do I get off sitting on top of a 1200 pound beast and thinking I can control him?", a picture we took of him in the trailer after that show stretching out his lips and showing his teeth, and on and on and on . . .

He was supposed to retire to Coniston with us. We talked frequently about where the horse barn and paddock would go.

But as my aunt told me "We cannot write the script."

This is a week that I will never forget and it is very familiar. I felt like this after Joe died and I felt like this after Daddy died. I wondered how I could ever feel vaguely normal again. I wondered if I would ever stop crying.

I think the hardest part of this week has been watching my child and husband go through such a loss and realize that there is absolutely nothing I can do to help or console them.

We are staying home this weekend when we would normally be at Coniston. We need some peace and quiet and time to grieve. We need to light the candle at First Parish Lexington.