Scratch One Off The Bucket List

Over the last 20+ years I have had a passion: I love to ride. I did everything I could to get the chance. It was never easy having the opportunity to do so. I took lessons here and there and went to a couple riding camps. I never freely rode, did 4H, or placed in any show. In fact, I've never been to a show. See, to become a great rider takes years of commitment and diligence. I never had the stability growing up at home to follow it how I should have. For years I ached all over for a horse.
One of my fondest memories of my Grandfather is sitting in the living room of the most happiest place on Earth watching the horse channel. We'd sit and watch the horse auctions for HOURS, commenting on every horse that came up for bid, eating bowls of ice cream and worrying about absolutely nothing. My Grandpa would give me the classifieds from the local paper and have me check the horse section. He used to tell me how bad he wanted to own one again, but deep down he knew he was too old and nothing ever came of it. Before I understood life and it's responsibilities I'd get so hurt that it never happened. I wanted one so bad. Still to this day I daydream of being up at Grandpa's, free riding his acreage on a beautiful horse in the sunlight until my heart's content. Years ago it felt like such a possibility, at times so close I could feel it. I loved it up there, it was my safe haven. These days it's nothing short of a pipe dream. My favorite place has also become my Achilles tendon, a place of vulnerability and hurt.
Months ago Kellan started asking me if she could take riding lessons. When she turned 5 I got her started. Her very first lesson went so well. She's a good rider. She had absolutely no fear. The more I watched her ride the heavier the yearn got to be back in that world again.  So I made a decision that I was going to look into owning. I know that I only have so many good riding years left myself, and the kids had a whole future ahead of them to. I knew that if I didn't do it now I probably never would. I started looking around and could not find the right horse. That is, until I found Booker...
Meet "Booker T.", a southern gentlemen straight from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Georgia. On the outside he might be a 16.1 hands Tennessee Walker mix, but on the inside he's a gentle giant and part lap dog. The first time I saw him I was smitten. Until now I've never actually gotten close to any particular horse.When you jump around riding facilities you ride whatever horse they put you on, and to that animal you're a dime a dozen. I've never felt a horse as smooth and soft to the touch as he is. I bear hugged him and didn't want to let go. I could spend all day just touching his face and playing with his mane. The kids love him and he seems to be fond of them too. He already seems to know us. As you round the corner to enter his stables there is a long row of horses. When they hear you coming they all stick their heads out to see who's the lucky one to see its owner. There is a sea of brown and black horse heads hanging out and at the very end peaking around is this beautiful, big, white and dappled creature with excitement in his eye to see us. It utterly leaves a lump in my throat.
How exciting it is to finally achieve this life long goal. I'm rather proud of myself for making this happen. I was so nervous and anxious waiting for him to arrive, and now I can relax and enjoy my dream. I so badly wish I could pick up the phone and tell my Grandfather all about it. Unfortunately, that number is no longer in service.