Carrying on Their Memories

Carrying on Their Memories

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am a sentimental person, so it shouldn't come as a surprise anyone that I like sentimental things. I have a lot of sentimental things like my grandpa's old pocket knife and the 1992 Buick Roadmaster that my great grandma had custom ordered and passed down to my grandma who will pass it down to me when she passes away. Perhaps the two most sentimental things that I have are this saddle and this hat.
My great aunt Robbie was one of the toughest cowgirls around. Grandma likes to talk about all the times that her dad would bring in new livestock. Aunt Robbie would sit by on her horse while they unloaded the cows and memorized them. If one went missing she could tell you exactly what it looked like even if she had only seen it once. My favorite story about her is about the time that she had to chase the bull back in. One of my great grandpa's bulls got out onto the neighbor's property. Aunt Robbie saddled up her horse and went to get him back in. She chased him all over their property until he ran into the middle of the pond and refused to get back out. This did not deter her. She hauled her dog onto the horse, walked into the middle of the pond and put the dog on the bull's back. Boy did that bull run! Grandma talks about how she had a short temper, a mischievous spirit and a heart of gold. My saddle, which is nearly 50 years old now, is the very same saddle that she threw onto her horse every day to go check the cows.

Great uncle Chris was one of those good ole' boys. He could always be found either working on the farm with a big old lip of tobacco or looking for a ride to a rodeo. Uncle Chris could ride the best of horses and the best of bucking bulls.  Like Aunt Robbie, Uncle Chris had a mischievous spirit and a heart of gold. One time he was staying with Grandma and Grandpa and he made his nose bleed every morning for a solid week to trick Grandma into letting him stay home from school. This hat has seen a lot of days on the farm and a lot of nights in the bucking chutes. Any of the older, local rodeo people I meet always recognize his name and tell me what a good cowboy he was.

Though I never met either of them, I feel honored to use that saddle and wear that hat. Every time I ride into an arena with that saddle and that hat, I can feel them sitting up in Heaven looking down at me. Every time I run a barrel pattern I can hear Aunt Robbie yelling at me to turn those barrels tight and Uncle Chris telling me to kick that horse harder. When I cross that timer I imagine them jumping up from their seats and cheering for me. I imagine they grab other people and say, "Come look at this girl. That is my niece. Isn't she fantastic? I am so proud of her."
I am proud to carry on the memories of two fantastic people and I hope that I do them proud.