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Learning to Let Go

October 2, 2004

One of the hardest lessons is knowing when the time has come for things
to change, for the future to grab hold and announce that "today is the
day". Some people thrive on change but I tend to be content with the
status quo, resenting the fact that change can be jarring and abrupt
even when we know the time has come.

I'm learning slowly to 'let go' of my oldest child as he's been 7 weeks
away to college, thriving in his new world of learning, while our lives
at home continue to be much the same, though with one less voice at the
table, less laundry in the hamper, two less hands to help with chores,
and one less young man to hug nightly. Letting go was all about him and
not at all about the rest of us. We'd happily keep him here at home
forever; we love him that much. Indeed, we love him even more than
that, so that is how we can bear to wave goodbye, as his life expands
beyond us--we remain the root and he is growing beyond and past us.

Now, unexpectedly, I say goodbye to another part of my daily status
quo--one of my Haflingers who has been with us for 11 years. I'm torn
about her leaving to start another life as I love her, adore her
beautiful face, admire her willingness to please, enjoy her energy when
she works, love the light in her eyes when she knows she has done well.
Marlee has been so much a part of our farm for so long that it is nearly
impossible to imagine it without her.

But Marlee has found a family that needs her more and can give her new
experiences, and expand her horizons, while opening doors to Haflingers
that have never been opened before. I did not have her for sale, and
never seriously considered it though I've had many many opportunities to
sell her over the years, but when an 8 year old girl who rides like the
wind climbs up on an 11 year old mare who can go like the wind, there is
a heaven sent message in that. They belong together and need each
other. "Leasing" was not an option for them as I hoped. They had to own
her. So I've said okay.

Marlee came to us as a six month old "runty orphan" baby, weaned at
three days when her mama died of sepsis, but never weaned from her
bottle/bucket feeding humans at M&B Farm in Canada. She knew people's
behavior, learned their nonverbal language, and understood human
subtleties that most horses never learn. This made her quite a
challenge as a youngster as it also meant there was no natural reserve
nor respect for people. She had no boundaries taught by a mother, so we
tried to teach her the proper social cues. She also was never quite at
home in a herd, eventually rising to the top of the mare hierarchy
through sheer bullying, but desperately lonely when separated from the
others. Just not quite a fit in the horse world.

The day she started formal under saddle training was when the light bulb
went off in her head--this was a job she could do! This was constant
communication and interaction with a human being, which she craved!
This was what she was meant for! And she thrived under saddle,
advancing quickly in her skills, almost too fast, as she wanted so much
to please her trainer.

She has had an unequaled record among North American Haflingers, yet to
be defeated. She was not only regional champion in her beginner novice
division of eventing as a pregnant 5 year old, but also received USDF
Horse of the Year awards in First and Second Level dressage that year as
that highest scoring Haflinger.

She's had a career of mothering along with intermittent riding work ever
since, with 5 foals --Winterstraum, Marquisse, Myst, Wintermond, and
Nordstrom---each from different stallions, and each very different from
one another. Her new life will put her back in the show ring and retire
her from mothering, primarily showing in pony hunter jumper
competitions, as her new rider is an avid jumper, and Marlee dearly
loves to jump. This will open a whole new area of competition in the
northwest to Haflingers.

It has taken me weeks of tossing at night to reconcile that I'm doing
the best thing for my dear sweet Marlee by selling her to a new family
who can use her every day in the way she loves so much. But she will not
be coming home for vacations and breaks as my son will. She will move
on and as part of the seller contract, if she ever needs a home again,
we are first in line, waiting for her return.

Letting go is all about her, and not at all about me. It is time, and
today is the day. My life will never be the same, but then, that is how
it is supposed to be. Each new day really isn't the status quo, though
in our need for security and predictability, we try to make it fit in
the mold of the previous day. Each new day is an opportunity to grow,
and become something more than we are. My college son reminds me of
that every time we talk. Marlee will know how much she is loved when I
cradle her head and hug her before she heads down the road.

Emily

http://www.briarcroft.com/emily.htm