Even though I was entirely too tired, and got home from work late (*Sigh* Why does work always get in the way of riding?), I wanted to ride. I needed it. So again with the routine, groom, load, unload, ride.
Except I added something new to the ride. Okay deep down I've been wanting to canter the last couple of rides but I wasn't sure how my ankle would feel. But I did it anyway. Not only did we canter both directions, and my ankle wasn't protesting too much, but we cantered on the left lead(Seneca's nemesis, other than the trailer) and there was no bucking, no fighting, no prodding to get there. I mean the transition wasn't the prettiest, but we got there, and it was good.
The trailering *sigh* I don't know if I will ever get the damn dividers or door closed. I want it, I want it so bad, so I can finally start trailering out to places, but the flipping mare is still protesting. *sigh* Patience, patience, patience.
In other news. My dad isn't doing so well. His planned third surgery got cancelled because they didn't think it was going do any good at this point. His cancer is terminal, and the doctors are saying six months. A miracle could happen, it could, it could, it could. But, time is a fragile thing, especially when there isn't a lot of it.
I've planned trips home, more than I usually would in a regular year. My older sister has taken a leave of absence, the younger one is moving home. And I guess I feel some guilt over not being there, but what would I be able to do if I were there? Sit and watch tv with him, talk about the same things that we always do? I can't help him, I know this, and me sitting on the couch staring at the tv screen while be both ignore what is happening may pass the time, but it won't keep him from dying.
I also can't just drop my entire life to move home for six months either. Both of my sisters work for civilian employers who have a bit of sympathy for the situation. The Navy? Not so much. Unless my dad was very near the end and I got a Red Cross message I wouldn't be able to get emergency leave. I am taking time in November and December, and probably in to the spring, but the Navy doesn't have too much sympathy for my family's tragedy, and my boss even less.
My immediate boss A. is also my friend and he's been kind, and considerate, giving me time, and an ear, and a shoulder but my next up the chain boss has said not word one to me.
Anyway, my animals and my husband are keeping me sane and stable right now. I don't think my sisters understand how I am handling this. Both of them are falling apart half the time, and my mom isn't doing so well either. But I haven't cried, or been hysterical or fallen apart. I don't think I know how anymore. I've seen too many things, and while I love my dad, the closeness of his death is not touching me yet. I feel detached from it, and that detachment, as well as the three hour distance is giving me a cushion that allows me to think clearly, and act in the moment without thinking too far in to the future.
Does this make me cold or uncaring? Does it mean I'm not concerned about my dad's health, or where his situation is going in six months? No, I don't think so. I've dealt with death, I've seen it, I've stared it in the eye, and seen those who have but just barely escaped it. It makes me immune to some things. Plus I know that nothing I do will change my dad's fate. Nothing, so fighting, and crying, and falling apart isn't going to get the tasks done that need to be completed.
Tragedy happens, but the horses still need to be fed.
Keep it between the flags everyone, there's too much insanity outside of them.
Except I added something new to the ride. Okay deep down I've been wanting to canter the last couple of rides but I wasn't sure how my ankle would feel. But I did it anyway. Not only did we canter both directions, and my ankle wasn't protesting too much, but we cantered on the left lead(Seneca's nemesis, other than the trailer) and there was no bucking, no fighting, no prodding to get there. I mean the transition wasn't the prettiest, but we got there, and it was good.
The trailering *sigh* I don't know if I will ever get the damn dividers or door closed. I want it, I want it so bad, so I can finally start trailering out to places, but the flipping mare is still protesting. *sigh* Patience, patience, patience.
In other news. My dad isn't doing so well. His planned third surgery got cancelled because they didn't think it was going do any good at this point. His cancer is terminal, and the doctors are saying six months. A miracle could happen, it could, it could, it could. But, time is a fragile thing, especially when there isn't a lot of it.
I've planned trips home, more than I usually would in a regular year. My older sister has taken a leave of absence, the younger one is moving home. And I guess I feel some guilt over not being there, but what would I be able to do if I were there? Sit and watch tv with him, talk about the same things that we always do? I can't help him, I know this, and me sitting on the couch staring at the tv screen while be both ignore what is happening may pass the time, but it won't keep him from dying.
I also can't just drop my entire life to move home for six months either. Both of my sisters work for civilian employers who have a bit of sympathy for the situation. The Navy? Not so much. Unless my dad was very near the end and I got a Red Cross message I wouldn't be able to get emergency leave. I am taking time in November and December, and probably in to the spring, but the Navy doesn't have too much sympathy for my family's tragedy, and my boss even less.
My immediate boss A. is also my friend and he's been kind, and considerate, giving me time, and an ear, and a shoulder but my next up the chain boss has said not word one to me.
Anyway, my animals and my husband are keeping me sane and stable right now. I don't think my sisters understand how I am handling this. Both of them are falling apart half the time, and my mom isn't doing so well either. But I haven't cried, or been hysterical or fallen apart. I don't think I know how anymore. I've seen too many things, and while I love my dad, the closeness of his death is not touching me yet. I feel detached from it, and that detachment, as well as the three hour distance is giving me a cushion that allows me to think clearly, and act in the moment without thinking too far in to the future.
Does this make me cold or uncaring? Does it mean I'm not concerned about my dad's health, or where his situation is going in six months? No, I don't think so. I've dealt with death, I've seen it, I've stared it in the eye, and seen those who have but just barely escaped it. It makes me immune to some things. Plus I know that nothing I do will change my dad's fate. Nothing, so fighting, and crying, and falling apart isn't going to get the tasks done that need to be completed.
Tragedy happens, but the horses still need to be fed.
Keep it between the flags everyone, there's too much insanity outside of them.
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