One Door Closes, Another Opens

Saturday was my second ride on Kachina. I was able to introduce some minor leg and rein cues (using the halter and lead rope) and, like the last time, she preformed perfectly. It's great to see how quickly and easily she's coming along. I know that that might change as she ages - I don't want to assume that it'll always be this easy - but, for now, I'm savoring it.

Yesterday was my grandfather's memorial. I was very surprised at the number of people, from all backgrounds and walks of life, who came to pay their respects to my grandfather and share their stories. Generations and generations of people who had known him. There were Drugstore Cowboys and Old Hands and people who had never been on a horse in their life, and they all said that they had learned something from my grandfather. One statement that I heard over and over, no matter what type of person said it, was that Granpa was a real cowboy and a real horsemen. In a time and place where that's swiftly becoming a rare breed, it made me proud to know that others saw him the way I did.

One speaker summed up Granpa pretty well: when asked why he didn't get surgery sooner, she said "Jewell wanted to live, not stay alive."

I met tons of people - some who knew me from my childhood, some who'd heard Granpa talk about me or had seen me with him, and some who had no idea who I was - and all of them were supportive of my commitment to horses. So many offered their advice, and invited me to events and were just genuinely good people. I even met a few who not only knew my grandfather, but are also followers of this blog! (Hey!!) How amazing is that?

They say that the horse community is dwindling, especially among African Americans. But yesterday, I saw it just as strong and diverse and tightly knit as I remembered from my childhood (and how amazing that Granpa was the catalyst for that!). I just wish that it didn't take his passing to make it all happen.