It's been almost a year now since she's passed. A day doesn't go by that I don't think of her and see her big doe eyes. I see her bridle hanging on the wall every day I walk into the tack room. Each time it reminds me of the miles we rode and the barrels we turned together on that little gray mare.
The bit, just a nothing special "roping" bit was her favorite. It was enough to control her powerhouse moves but yet light enough to let her do her job. It has never felt right on anyone else but her so there it sits.
A bridle around my place that is not used after a certain amount of time is always in danger of being disassembled and put on a different bit, one that is being used. The reins, always a hot commodity are left, keeping it all intact. Just how she liked it. Many times I've gone to the bridle, searching for that missing part to make my new head gear complete. But I just can't bring myself to taking it apart. It was her's. It feels like one of the last things that I'll ever have of hers and I'm just not quite ready to let that go just yet.
Today I held the reins, feeling that familiar feel as I slid my hand from knot to knot. I closed my eyes and was taken back. Taken back to a time where all felt right, a sweet gray mare between my hands and under my saddle getting ready to turn that first barrel - the complete thrill of the ride and her effortless turn.
I miss her more by the thought of her and all the memories that come flooding back every time I see that bridle hanging on the wall. I'm not ready to give that feeling of her up just yet. So there it will stay, hanging on the horse shoe; so that any time I need a reminder or to feel her, I can just grab the reins and she will take me for that ride that always took my breath away.
