Over the Fence: Never give up
Here's a fitting thought for our times – Never Give Up.
This past year, we have collectively been visited by political dissension, riots, property and human destruction, wildfires, racism and the coronavirus. The coronavirus has further tried our mettle both by rending our social fabric and threatening our very lives. It's been a lot to deal with, but as a nation and as a people, we seem to be staying the course. We don't give up.
When my children were teenagers, they apparently decided to become savages. My hyperactive son was diagnosed with ADHD (Awesomely Disastrous, Hellishly Determined), while my daughter was thought to be OCD (Oddly Combative and Disorderly)! Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. It all reached a boiling point when my son totaled my car and was nearly killed. With my daughter that point was reached when she was caught in one disastrous lie too many. It was not a happy time, and there were some hard years. Despite all of this, both children grew up to be responsible adults and I truly believe it's because their father and I never turned our backs on them. We never gave up.
Years ago, when my horse Moody Mare was young and feisty and I was light on experience, we went bareback riding. Since riding without a saddle was new to both of us, the goal was to make it around the arena only once. First try: horse takes off at dead run, and K slides nimbly off. Second try: horse begins nicely at walk, then gets bitten by winged critter and bucks K off. Third try: now-nervous horse takes off at a gallop and scrapes K off on convenient fence post. K has talk with horse. Fourth try: horse and now-nervous rider complete one successful, very slow walk around the arena and finally call it quits. The only good thing about this story is that we never gave up.
My friend Bobbie, who once worked for me, is an experienced trainer who seldom has trouble with horses, and if she does, it's momentary. Nevertheless, while training a green horse owned by a neighbor of mine, she was thrown more often than in all her twenty-plus years of riding. At one point, the horse reared, pawed the air in true Trigger-mode and promptly fell on her. This was one scary animal. We all feared the worst, but when she insisted that we not take her to the hospital, we took her home instead and spent the night worrying. The next morning I called to check on her and as the phone was ringing … and ringing … and ringing, I suddenly knew where Bobbie was. You got it – battered and bruised and back on the horse.
As with horses, so it is with husbands, children, politics (and the IRS)! If you're going to survive: Never, Ever, Give Up.
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