Recently I had an unexpected opportunity: to visit with an old friend and here her talk about the past. I had worked a horse show at her family’s facility the previous weekend. Because of other commitments, I had to leave my horse show vendor trailer there until later. The day was brutally hot. When I got there, I just wanted get in, pack up, and leave as quickly as possible. My friend, the family matriarch, saw me arrive and came by for a visit. And she talked…and talked. I realized that this was a gift. Instead of apologizing and saying I had to leave, I locked up the trailer and sat and talked with my old friend.

I rode with her when I didn’t own my own horse and had to rely on lesson horses. Later I showed my own horses at her family’s facility and have been a vendor there. On the recent day, I was just someone visiting with an old friend. Her memory is not what it used to be and I don’t know if she will remember our visit.

I asked her a favor: to drive me around that farm and tell me what it used to be like on her farm. We spent the next hour in a golf cart reliving the past. We talked of horse and ponies long since dead. We talked of fields that now produce only hay but were used for horse pastures many years ago. We talked and talked … and the time just drifted away. She drove me to her house and asked where I was parked. I replied that I was near the warm-up ring. She did not remember seeing me there but drove me back. I finished packing up but found there was no urgency in what I was doing. I had the gift of her time to carry with me.

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