Last night I finally bit the bullet and began reading the huge stack of cards and letters that you sent to Kathleen and me after Malachi’s death. I had put it off time and time again. I considered not packing them when we approached the move to Tennessee. I knew they were all full of love and compassion, but I still couldn’t open the first one. I did pack them to go to Tennessee and when that box was unpacked I piled them all onto the table behind my desk, there to stay to confront me everyday until I finally pulled out the letter opener. As you’ve no doubt heard me say: we manage by focusing forward. Not backward.
A couple of weeks ago Kathleen was wandering through the hundreds of pictures she had taken of Malachi and sent me one I had never seen. It broke my heart. I cried it seems for hours. So the piles of cards and letters just sat, and sat, for more than four weeks.
Until last night.
I was up way too late. But I read every one. Every word. At one point over the last several months I vowed to answer every one personally but last night I changed my mind and ask your forgiveness. I just can’t. But I thank you each and every one for all the beautiful words of love and hope and care and concern. The headline above is but an example of how each message attempted to buoy us, to help us get through it. To refill the vacuum.
Nothing can, of course, but we so appreciate all the efforts.
I was in the pasture all day today running electric fence. It was only the second day since we arrived in Tennessee with sunshine, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Cold, still muddy, but beautiful. I had a lot of help from the herd. Unfortunately Kathleen was in California and wasn’t here to document it. At one point the herd wandered off to the far end of the larger pasture and I glanced over at Noelle in the paddock behind the barn, and this picture of Malachi stepping onto his platform flashed through my conscientiousness:
Because here’s what I saw:
It’s a concrete pad, about a foot off the ground, behind our new 100-year-old barn. She has never – to my knowledge – been on that platform. She still walks huge circles around anything new or never seen before. Right or wrong, I believe what she saw Malachi do over and over convinced her that such was okay, it could be trusted. Actually Malachi’s little platform is just out of frame to the left and I wished that it had been out there where she’s standing… wondering if she would be on that as well… for what she appeared to be doing was to stand taller in an attempt to see the herd which had wondered off over a hill toward the far end of the larger pasture.
As I stood there watching her, cell camera in hand, I also thought about this photo:
This one was taken just a couple of weeks after Malachi’s death. One of Noelle’s first times in Malachi’s playpen. She left Kathleen and me and the alfalfa sprinkled at our feet and walked over to sniff around her baby’s platform, which by his third month he would often climb upon completely on his own and hang his head over into Noelle’s (open) stall, surely saying Look at me mom. I’m a big boy now.
Kathleen and I Skype every night. We used to sit around the dinner table after the kids had had enough adult conversation, just talking about stuff. We miss that. So we Skype. Last night I tried to read to her phrases from some of the letters, but she wouldn’t listen, still not ready. I wasn’t either, but I finally read them and I thank you so much. It’s the stuff of life. Which is so much better than the alternative.
I love you guys.
Joe
Joe — i look forward to reading each of your posts… it’s like sharing life, knowing we’re all together in this and your insights are comforting and healing.
Malachi was a beautiful spirit – there’s got to be a book coming, especially with that photograph. it’s a God thing going on here.
Again, thanks for sharing.
Joe I still think of the horses that came into my life. Some of them only stayed a short while, and I can still see them doing something really silly, and I still smile even if there are tears in my eyes. Malachi will be forever with you, because he imbedded hisself so deep in your heart. There will be days when you think of him, and you will smile, and have tears in your eyes.
Joe,
I only sent you a short email about Malachi, but know so well
how you felt. I had to have my App gelding put down almost
seven years ago & still miss him so. He was with me for 16
years and was 28 when he died. Losing a little guy like you
did had to be so very hard.
I so enjoy reading the blog & people’s comments.
Thanks for all you do for the horses
Maggie Frazier
I answered this the other day but don’t know where it went! My soul is with you and Kathleen and the four-legged family. Grief takes a long time, I know. Glad you finally soaked in the love we sent.A much needed respite from the stress of moving. Your meadow picture is on my wall right over the computer!Thanks!!!
They do teach us so much. I find that in order to figure it out I just have to sit back, relax and don’t over think about it. Your newsletters and blogs have taught me so much to and I thank you for that.
Joe,
Thanks for the beautiful blog entries. We feel as if we know you– you’ve given us so much of yourself in your writing and your beautiful pictures of your herd. We love you, too.
Hello Joe,
My name is Keith King and I only knew you a short time in Biloxi while my wife Toni helped you with your boat. I also only got involved with horses about two years ago and have experienced many of the same issues with our approach as you have described in your book. It was quite a suprise when my daughter gave me your book and I saw your name and picture. It was a great read and I hope you keep it up. I would love to talk to you sometime. I still live in south Mississippi, but Toni and I got divorced right after Katrina. I have since purchased my retirement property in Colorado. It is a certified organic cattle ranch and we have six quarter horses there. I am raising three horses here in Mississippi that I will take with me to Colorado. Hope to here from you soon.
Keith King
800-908-7892
Hi Joe, I just wanted to thank you for sharing so much about your life with horses.I look foward everyday to see if you have sent an e-mail. Horses have become such an important part of my life also. I have recently brought horses to my property, I am now an owner of two and one pony, all rescued from auction. Currently I am learning about the fascinating world of equine facilitated learning and psychotherapy.They have so much to give. Many blessings, Karen