Renee Sendelbach Looking at it from the outside in, it looks magical. Painted with deep rich colors that demand
attention. It moves with fluid smooth motions.
Light dances off of the mirrors and the music is hypnotic. The horses
fit my body like glove – like it was carved just me.
The excitement builds as I get closer to the entrance, and
just as it is my turn to get in the gate and pick my horse, I notice the
something different. I can’t put my
finger on it but I feel it in my soul.
Then there I was, left to pick my horse. I picked a seat
bench because if truth be told I am not a huge fun and the up and down motion while
going round and round. My seat was hard with a tilted back that made for a
comfortable ride.
I found myself in awe of the detailed carvings – how does
one have the patience for that I wonder to myself?
Giggles, laughter and music filled the air – until it
didn’t.
I was asked to change seats to a whole new ride, to be with
a new group of people I didn’t know. This seemed normal, like they were my
tribe.
The air was heavier over here. Like something intense was about to happen
and no one looked each other in the eye for fear of the other person seeing
this fear too. If they noticed it also,
it had to be true – right?
I started to notice cracks in the paint and splinters on the
pole and sad eyes all around.
I asked where we were at, but nobody answered – nobody knew.
We would sometimes stop and pick up a few new people or drop
someone off.
I wanted off. How
were they getting off? Why were they getting off and no one around me got to
get off?
Then I noticed something. Once they got off, they never got
back on – we never got to see them again. They just kind of floated into the
air all the while we were left there to wonder.
So as tired as I was going up and down and round and round,
I told myself I had to settle in and try to enjoy the ride.
Then an amazing thing happened, those of us who were left on the ride noticed
each other. Noticed we weren’t alone on
the ride. Noticed there were more things we had in common with one another than
being stuck on this ride trying to get off. We noticed all of our horses or
bench seats were different in major and minor ways. They all had a different story to tell – once we
stopped to listen to each other.
We asked why. Why was
everyone so different but so much the same? No one knew the answer though.
All we knew was that someone heard once you made it to this ride,
you were going to be on this ride for the rest of your life.
That shook us all to the core. Who said that? How did they know? We all looked at each
other so scared we couldn’t talk. We
just cried.
After all the tears dried up, we all had this magical glow
around us.
We realized we were there – there for each other – there to
help a new one on to the ride; although we really hated it. But we were there
none the less for each other – no matter how long or short someone had been on the ride.
We were there. There. To cry together. To laugh together. To
live this life on this merry go round together.
We also realized none of us asked for this. None of us did or didn’t do one little thing
that made us end up here – we were just here. It made it a little easier to
know someone else knew what this fucking ride felt like.
We talked with each other.
We got to know each other. We
asked each other questions. What we did
before we were on this ride? What is
your family like? Where is your favorite place to be? What are you scared of?
That was the one that always got us all. What were we scared
of?
None of us could help it – that question would take our
breath away and made our hearts race.
We were scared of dying in our 30’s, our kids not having
moms, and so much more. We are scared we
didn’t do enough to have our legacy live on?
How will we ever know?
