I didn’t realize when I last posted that this is October, the one-year anniversary month of Keil Bay’s passing. It hit me later that day, after I put up the photo of him and felt him close. His passing was on October 24th, and I am sure I’ll mark the day with another writing, but the memories from his passing and even more from his life with me are very close and strong right now.
The idea that it has been an entire year since he passed seems wrong somehow. It feels in my mind and in my body and in my heart like it was only a couple of months ago.
I took this photo a few days ago of one of my favorite autumn plantings in the native pollinator bed closest to the barn. The night Keil Bay passed, my husband gathered these flowers and laid them over the Big Bay, and I don’t think I’ll ever look at this combination of colors and textures again without seeing them on his gorgeous red bay coat.
His spirit has been with me this entire year, for months and months he was always close, and gradually through the year he sometimes seems further away, like maybe he’s off with good friends: Brio, Maverick, Lily, Salina, and more I do not know. I have summoned him to help me during hard times this late spring and summer, and he’s been right there.
Often he and Salina are on either side of me, brilliant black and red bay guardians, and now I smile rather than cry when I feel their presence.
It’s notable to me that although I talk to both Keil and Salina at their gravesites, I mostly feel their spirits up high or on either side of me. They are not resting so much as they are moving with me, and moving in open air and open spaces. It’s the rippling of muscle I remember most, the feel of movement beneath the saddle, the tossing of heads and curving of powerful necks as they shift into their big trots, as they coil to burst forward into gallops.
October is one of my two favorite months of the year, the opening to my favorite season. Keil’s passing during October was one of the hardest losses of my life, but remembering him, even remembering the occasion of his final breath, is one of the clearest feelings of love I have ever had.
I know some of you reading here get this because of your own equine friends. I know some might wonder how this could be such a milestone. I don’t really know how to express it other than what I’ve said. Though there is a tribute I wrote to Keil Bay shortly after he passed that is out on submission right now and when it gets accepted somewhere and published, I’ll share it. It’s magical and it captures everything I felt about that night. When I read it to myself I feel the magic of Keil Bay woven into each line.
Meanwhile, OCTOBER. I am celebrating the beauty of this very special month.
2 comments:
It doesn't seem like a year has already passed, it seems more recent to me. I'm pleased that you still feel him with you and you take comfort in his presence.
I'm not a big believer in the supernatural or spirits in my life but there have been occasions that have had me questioning that belief. Years ago we were at a boring work convention for a weekend and since I had nothing to do I booked a session with the psychic who was a guest at the hotel just for a lark. He told me he saw a gray horse over my shoulder. Now I never even mentioned I had a horse or one who had died recently. So there is evidence that our beloved animals do stay with us for a period of time.
October is my favorite month too!
Oh, A, that gives me chills in the very best way! He is with you!
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