Holding Space

For Lucy

“What we once enjoyed and deeply loved we can never lose. For all that we love deeply becomes part of us.” - Helen Keller

Today my good friend called to give me an update on Lucy.
Lucy is the horse I wrote about who recenlty lost her stablemate, Rocky. The bond the two horses shared was palpable. I once made the mistake of leading Lucy into the barn to brush her, leaving Rocky to continue grazing outside. The instant I unclipped the lead rope from her halter, Lucy barreled past me, pushing open the stall door (my bad for not securing the latch) and galloping back into the field. There, Rocky greeted her like a hero returning from months at war with ecstatic whinnies and nose nuzzles. Like I said, bonded.

So when I heard that Lucy’s person was refurbishing the decades-old horse trailer that was used to ferry Lucy and Rocky to family gatherings, trail rides, and parades, my stomach dropped. The repairs were being done off-site - that is to say far from the barn and pasture Lucy and Rocky shared. So when Lucy heard the familiar rattle and creak of the trailer returning weeks later she assumed her beloved friend was returning too.

She met the truck and trailer at the fence that runs parallel to the road leading to the barn and cantered along beside it, nickering and whinnying in anticipation. I can only imagine how her excitement faded, how her head and tail drooped, how she stopped calling for her friend when she realized he wasn’t on the trailer. I can only imagine how her person felt with no way to ease her disappointment.

Animals are all about love. They don’t operate in our timebound world, but live forever in the present with their hearts wide open. I think of Lucy now each time one of my cats weaves his way between my legs or my neighbor’s dog - who sees me almost daily - behaves as if I am the most wonderful stranger she’s ever met.

I think of Lucy when my mother returns to me, her presence carried by the smell of Earl Grey tea, the discovery of a photo tucked between the pages of a dogearred paperback, or a voicemail accidentally replayed while checking messages.

I think of Lucy when the same good friend and I kibbitz about those we’ve loved and lost - about the sudden and inexplicable moments when the door between then and now swings open, and memories dance like dust motes in the love light of our conversation.

I think of Lucy and picture myself walking into her field - into the field of in between - leading Rocky by his forelock. His progress is slow, his back swayed and legs bent, but he’s full - as he’s always been - with the good will and generosity of a horse who’s known and given only love. The two horses nicker softly, inhaling familar scents and news, exchanging neck rubs and back scratches for as long as time can be held at bay - for as long as forever holds.

Copyright 2024 by Jena Ball. All Rights Reserved.