Page 46 of A Part of Me and You
‘You superstar!’ says Rosie, who is already in the saddle and ready for action. ‘You’ll love it Mum, I’m telling you. I can’t believe you’re actually doing this! Amazing!’
She blows her mum a kiss and Juliette catches it, just like I used to do with Lily when she was a tiny little girl. When I see Juliette close her fist and put it to her heart, I want to press pause and savour this moment forever.
I wait with Rosie and the horses while Sarah sorts Juliette out with some riding gear and the look on the young girl’s face is something that I have never seen in her before. Her eyes are bright and shiny as she takes in her surroundings with the light breeze in her hair, her mouth in a wide smile. As she sits up high on the horse waiting to share this experience with her mother, I realize that this is a memory that she will cling to for a long, long time. I get that feeling again, that glow inside and I allow myself to totally absorb the joy of others and the small part I have played in making this happen.
Juliette
Sarah helps my foot into the stirrup and on the count of three I mount the horse which looks and feels like a giant to me. His coat is soft and silky to touch which I notice when I wobble a bit in the saddle and put my hand on his neck when searching for the reins.
‘You okay?’ says Sarah and I nod, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. The waves lap only feet away from me and the feeling of fresh air on my face is both exhilarating and breath-taking from up high. I never had any sort of desire to ride horses, despite taking Rosie for lessons when she was younger, and the very thought of being on horseback is enough to make me fearful and dizzy. Yet here I am, on a beach in the West of Ireland with my daughter by my side and these wonderfully generous people giving us an experience to remember.
‘I’m going to lead him along and I’ll be walking beside you every step of the way,’ says Sarah. ‘Shell, will you do the same with Rosie and Dizzy just to make sure she gets a feel of it before we let her go it alone.’
‘It’s okay, I can manage by myself,’ says Rosie, but I agree with Sarah. It’s best to take this one step at a time. I, for one, can’t stop shaking with nerves but Rosie is super confident as she takes to it like a duck to water. Shelley and Merlin walk alongside her just to be sure, which makes me feel better. I have enough to worry about with my own new buddy Neptune, without fearing for Rosie taking off into a gallop!
The horse starts to move along the shoreline and I tilt my head back and laugh out loud as the wind breathes on me and the sun shines on my face. This is so not me. I’m very much a feet firmly on the ground person and as much as I have denied it, I don’t share the same passion for animals as my daughter does. I don’t dislike them of course, but they were never really my thing; but here I am on a horse, walking slowly along the coast and I am absolutely loving it. This is what I came here for, like Dr Michael said, to do things that I would never do at home with Rosie, to do things that will feed my soul and enrich my senses, to push boundaries, to make memories and I had no idea what this day would bring which is what makes it all so wonderful.
And an extra bonus is that I am showing Shelley that if I can step out of my comfort zone then so can she.
I watch Rosie up front with Shelley, who walks alongside her looking up at her with such protection and care that I wonder how blessed we are to have met someone like her on this trip. How did this happen? How did I get to be here in this glorious place with such wonderful people who care so much about showing us a good time?
‘Are you enjoying it?’ Shelley calls back to me and I smile and take the chance of giving her the thumbs up while still holding on to the reins.
‘It’s like I’m on top of the world!’ I shout down to her and Sarah looks up at me knowingly. She pats the side of the horse and whispers something to him then gives me a wink. What on earth is she up to now?
‘Come on,’ she says to the horse and she begins to run alongside us, bringing the horse into a gentle trot as she does. We overtake Rosie, Shelley and Merlin and as we up the pace I grip the reins and bob along as the horse moves up and down, up and down.
‘Yee ha!’ I shout to Rosie and she pretends to wave a lasso back at me.
‘I’m coming to get you!’ she calls after me and soon we are trotting alongside each other, laughing and smiling and pulling faces and I fill up inside with joy as this moment plays out in front of me. Right now, I don’t care for tomorrow. I just want to stay like this, to hold onto this feeling of pure happiness and exhilaration as I share this precious moment in time with my girl. I absorb the present, I live for each second and right now there is no better feeling.
Shelley waves at me as she runs alongside Rosie and her pony, and I can see that she too is experiencing a rush of emotions. I feel so much gratitude, so much joy and happiness, and a sheer contentment so filling that I feel like I could burst.
‘Thank you!’ I mouth down to Shelley, who runs along so effortlessly. ‘Thank you so, so much!’
Shelley shakes her head in response.
‘No, thankyou,’ she says to me and I think I understand what she means.
Chapter 16
Shelley
I am lying on the sofa in our ‘good’ living room in my dressing gown, silently reflecting on what was such a wonderful evening on the beach with Juliette, Rosie, Merlin and my good friend Sarah.
I wonder just how much I have been missing as the world has kept going around me over the past three years.
Grief freezes you, I guess. It puts you into a different zone, one that doesn’t relate to everyday things like going to the movies, or eating out in nice places, or planning around the weather, or taking the car to the garage, or making a dental appointment, or opening your mail. All of those things seem alien when you’re bereaved, like they belong in some parallel universe because all you can think of when you lose someone is how cruel life is, and learning to function again can be almost be like learning to walk again. It is crippling.
Yes, I have functioned; I have kept going with the shop, I have managed to get my hair coloured when it became unbearable on the eye (if Eliza hadn’t nudged me in the direction of the hairdressers I might never have noticed, mind you). But I have never actually allowed myself to stop andfeelanything until now. Well, not until Saturday I should say, when I found Rosie on the beach and from then began tiny flickers of movement in my heart and in my mind. It was like I was slowly waking up from the most horrific nightmare. The nightmare is real, but waking up isn’t so frightening anymore.
Today, was the best though. Today I felt the rush of joy that comes with gratitude, the rush of satisfaction that comes with helping others, the rush of adrenaline to see Rosie and her mum experience that precious memory of something so simple as horse riding along the beach for the first time together.
I think of the last few weeks I spent with my own mother and how much I wished I had done things differently, but I was merely a child and I wasn’t to know the years of regret and longing I had ahead of me, of how much we were both missing out on. If I was a child again I would laugh more with my mother, I would sing songs together, I would tell jokes, watch movies, go shopping, make her dinner, help more around the house, tell her about my boy crushes, my fears, my hopes and dreams and listen to hers because I wish now I had realised that she too was a person and not just my mother; she was a woman with a past, with memories and ambitions, and milestones that she too hoped one day to reach for her own satisfaction but of course never did.
But most of all, if I was a child again I would dance more with my mother. I would take her hands and turn the music up loud at every opportunity and we’d laugh and dance and dance and dance …
I hope that Juliette and Rosie remember to dance.
