Holy Mother

 I celebrated my 28th Mother's Day today and I don't think I did enough to truly honor my mom the way she deserves. She should get a full on party for keeping up with Whitney and my adventures as well as living all of her own. I was just so darn tired from running the most excellent derby yesterday in Darby's honor. But that shouldn't be an excuse. Darby was only in my life for a flash in a pan compared to the years that my mom has been here for me. So let's go back, wayyyyy back.

I'd have to say my farthest back memory of mommy and me would be when she took me to my first show with Fire Pony. I couldn't have been more that 3 or 4 and we went in the lead line class. She got me all adorably suited up for the big show debut. I remember her fussing over the pony to make sure it was all just right and then tightening up my little breeches garter straps. I was ready to win this thing!! It doesn't take a whole lot of skill to do lead line class well-be cute, stay on your pony, and tell the judge your number when they ask. But it was the Olympics to toddler Ali. I was hooked on showing after that. After that we progressed through years and was queen of the 4-H equitation classes. That was her niche. She could make you a lovely and effective rider that stood above the rest of the class. It was always very prideful to win those classes for her. Even when we would go down and compete at the state championships and sweat over every minute detail of the pattern-there was nothing more satisfying than trotting away from a gauntlet thrown down pattern and see her smile and head nod. You know you had done well. Winning that class of around 70 other kids my age who all deserved to be there just as much as me will always hold a place in my heart. It was the top of the world and mom cried the tears of joy as much as I did.

We tackled eventing next. For the longest time, Whitney and I only got to event once or twice a year due to the costs of 3 riders eventing on one budget. Looking back-I don't know how the hell my parents made it happen now that I pay for my own shows. More than likely, my mom sacrificed her own shows and dreams so that she could see her daughters do it. Such selflessness. When she wasn't showing, she was coaching, cleaning horses and riding boots and of course cheerleading. She was there for all the ups and downs that comes with showing. When it came to college, she made sure we fought for the riding scholarships and earned what we were worth. I recall getting the phone call that St. Mary-of-the-Woods College would grant me $80,000 to ride on there hunt and stock seat teams. We squealed with delight.

Mom would spend many hours with us on the phone while she did barn chores. She would leave the phone on speaker and set us in the feeder to listen to us rant and rave about it whatever. She listened to my saga of losing my spot on the semi-finals team due to my apparent bullying of teammates in my competitive demeanor but also got the details of how the shows were going weekend to weekend. She was there when I finally broke down and told her how I'd nearly been raped and how I had been sexually assaulted in high school but I had been to proud to tell her. It broke her heart that I hadn't trusted her. I only did tell her because I stopped sleeping at night due to the night terrors and panic attacks I was having that my wonderful roommates woke up to.  I never would have had the strength to go on that hour long walk around campus to tell her about it without their encouragement and confidence that my mom would still love me after I told her. I hid that secret for 6 years too long. 6 years of fear of men and crippling anxiety that could have been much easier on me. You live and learn. I can't tell you how small I felt that day. How anxious and anticipatory. But she handled it like any mom would and gave her daughter the biggest hug and cried with me.  Of course she still loved me. And she still loved me when I blew my reining pattern at Nationals and lost what could have been and should have been a huge win for my college. It was somebody else's win that day. 

 That wouldn't be the first trauma she went through with me, nor the last. She helped me get my job with Dorothy Crowell, buying Reddin and move around the country several times. Along with my dad of course.  When I finally made the decision to move home, she was there to help me get the the house situated just right.  We grew my business and she trusted me when I purchased my first crop of off the track sales horses.  She believes in me. And she does everyday.  

Giving my mom Darby was supposed to be my little way of giving back to her for all the opportunities she gave me growing up. Every great ride or show they had was just me putting a little back in her cookie jar that we were always taking out of as kids. I finally had done and made something great that I could give her in return and now that it's gone, I have to find a new way to give back to someone who always gave so much. It's going to take some time to find something comparable but I'm up to the challenge. So happy mothers day mom. Thanks for loving me though the good, bad and the ugly. You're the real MVP