At first I thought it was because I didn't have anything else to do this summer. But that can't be true because for one, this adventure is going to be a whole year, not just this last month of summer. And two, my life is already fairly exciting. I have horseback riding, and that in itself is a rollercoaster. Just today, I spent seven hours at the barn doing horsey things. And it was fun! Well, mostly fun. I had my fair share of drama, adrenaline, and huge decisions to make while I was there. And that's normal. Plus I can always do crazy stuff with my friends. If staying up all night watching zombie/Nazi movies isn't exciting, I just don't know what is!
So it's not like I feel that my life is too boring. In fact, I can get overwhelmed sometimes. I figure it all comes back to Kismet. It always comes back to Kismet.
Now before you get confused, I'm not talking about kismet, the Turkish and Urdu word for fate or destiny. I'm talking about the horse I loved and lost.
Here's a little backstory I wrote for a personal essay assignment sophomore year...
(some creative liberties were taken, but the story is 100% true)
“Damn it Kelsey! Pay attention or that horse is going to buck you off!” my horseback riding instructor screeched at me for the fourth time that lesson. I was trying to pay attention, but every time I passed the west pasture I couldn’t help but to stare at this gorgeous chestnut mare. The way her coat shone in the morning sun was like the glimmer of a lucky penny on a busy sidewalk. This striking horse intrigued me; she was so graceful and remarkably pretty, but I’d never seen her ridden before.
Two months later I bought the gorgeous chestnut mare. Her name was Kismet and I’d like to think that her namesake, the Arabic idea of fate or karma, is what brought us together. Apparently she’d been given to our barn for a year because nobody else wanted her. She would bolt, fight the rider, and do whatever she could to have her own way. Nobody at our barn wanted her either, except for me.
It’s not like when I got on her she was instantly tamed and we both fell in love. It wasn’t like that in the least. The moment I got on her the first time, she grabbed the bit and galloped off with me holding on for dear life. And I loved it. I loved this spunky horse and I didn’t care if anybody else did.
For almost a year I learned some of the greatest life lessons on my big copper mare. Kismet made sure I learned all of these lessons the hard way and I don’t think we had a good ride until I had owned Kismet for about six months. I still remember the awful lessons and Kismet remains the only horse to ever try to jump over two jumps at the same time. Still after all those tough days Kismet would nicker at me and I would go over and pet her for as long she wanted. We both learned a lot about each other and the world that year and those were great times, but neither of us knew how short our time together actually was.
It was 8:00 on a crisp Saturday morning, I was walking Kismet down to the round pen to let her loose and get her and get her energy out before I rode. I was pretty early for my lesson and the barn was deserted. As I took Kismet’s halter off she trotted away with her tail high in the air like a flag at the beginning of a race. As I reached the center of the arena to encourage her to canter around, as if on cue, Kismet started galloping around. That horse loved to run! As she soared around the arena she kept a playful eye on me. I knew she wanted to play tag as we usually do, but I was too lazy to run around and play that day so I decided to just make her run until she was tired. As I set off after her, Kismet kicked up a gear and motored around the arena faster than I’d ever seen her go! And she was having so much fun!
Until she tripped. People say that during a frightening moment, the world seems to slow down. For me it happened in the blink of an eye. One second my energetic mare is galloping around at full speed, the next she’s hobbling across the pen. Poor Kismet was still trying to run; if she could, she would run all day and all night. I knew something was wrong and I’d read horror stories where horses would break their legs and have to be put down. As soon as I got to her, I tied Kismet up where she was. My strong horse couldn’t walk another step, although she tried. I raced out of the arena trying to find any help I could. Finally I got to another rider, Ami, and I almost unintelligibly told her of my predicament. Almost as if it were no big deal Ami told me Kismet was probably alright. I respected Ami and I trusted her opinion, but still deep down I knew something was horribly wrong. I dragged Ami to the arena and at the point Kismet was sweating in pain and not putting any pressure on her back left leg at all. From Ami’s expression when she saw Kismet, I knew the prospects weren’t good, but it was all I could do to keep a strong face for Kismet. As Ami went for more help and to call for the vet, I stayed with my panicked horse crying into her mane. We stood there together, her shivering in agony and me shaking with fear for fifteen minutes as others came to try and talk to me. Finally the vet got there and that point I was I alone. I wiped away my tears as he examined her hoof.
He came up and looked me in the eye, “It isn’t good. She’s broken her upper phalanx and that’s where horses put most of their weight.”
At this point it was beginning to become difficult for me to breathe, but I choked out, “What are our options?”
This time he looked away and said, “We can try to help her heal, but she’d be in a lot of pain and she’d never be able to regain full mobility. The best thing you can do is to let her go, but it’s your decision.” I knew a life without running wouldn’t be a life at all for my free spirited mare and I knew that there was only one real choice. All I could do was to yell and collapse onto my broken horse. I held her life in my hands, and she didn’t even know it. Soon the others heard my sobs of horror and they came running.
I don’t even remember what happened for the next ten minutes, or was it ten hours? The next thing I knew was that my mom was asking me if I wanted to be there when she left. I didn’t even answer her, I just started running. I couldn’t kill Kismet! We had such a happy future ahead of us! We were going to win the big shows and make history! I was going to have a sleepover at the barn with her! We were going to spend the whole summer riding bareback through flower meadows! Kismet just couldn’t die!
But when I got back to face reality, she was gone. All that was left was a pile of blankets on a mound where my chestnut mare used to be. I couldn’t even support her at the end, just because I was selfishly afraid! I killed my own horse, and I wasn’t even there to see her go.
I’d give anything now just to hold her head in my arms as she breathed her last breath, but it’s too late. Before she died the thing I wanted most was to be on time to my lesson. I never knew all I’d ever want would be to be there when my horse died, but it’s true. Sometimes we never know what we truly want until it’s gone.
I think the reason that I've never been able to let go of Kismet is because of what she represents to me now. She represents a time when the future looked so bright. A time where I could do anything. It was the time when innocence still allows dreams and encourages hopes, without letting reality crush them all. Kismet represents a passion I could throw myself into. She represents overcoming triumphs and hard work. She represents so much to me now, that sometimes I feel as if I can't remember her at all, only my idea of her.
And that's why I'm doing all of this. I think I'm just trying to get all of that back. I'm trying to find something, I don't know how to look for. It may seem foolish and may seem irrelevant. But that's the truth as I see it. And who knows, maybe I will find another passion and another bright future. One can never know.
For now I'll just keep struggling with the horse that I love, but that can never live up to Kismet's legacy. And I'll just keep trying to find what I'm looking for.
Rest in Peace, Kismet
<3 Stuart
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