Sugar

When I started writing this yesterday I was wallowing and so I put it aside. Bigger and tougher pains commanded my attention this morning but I've circled back, and now want to post it. Sometimes I find it hard to put my finger on the how and why, but I sense there is rhyme and reason behind these seemingly random notes that sometimes pop out and carry me away. I guess in order to honor that process and allow for possibility, I want to let this one play out more completely, maybe shape-shift the emotions some more by finishing the post. I find writing most always helps clarify and finalize the weight.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * *


I think it is kinda funny that I put "pony" on the wish list I posted yesterday. I don't really want a pony, well not in same way that I really would enjoy the rest of that list :) But there I was typing away and the word "pony" just popped out. It seemed to just follow and fit, and so I left it.

Today at lunch I got to thinking about it again and I don't really think it was an accident or random word choice. I think it linked to an upsetting conversation from the night before. I've been trying to feel more and think less but it seems that I am still fairly slow and awkward when it comes to connecting the emotional dots.

You see I did have a pony briefly when I was kid. I named him Sugar. He was a Shetland pony, brown with a white sugar-colored mane. He was a surprise, a gift that my mom's parents bought for me. I don't recall the occasion, might have even been a birthday but actually my memory is real sketchy on the details.

Nana and Frank raised cattle on 10 acres and so they had plenty of room for a pony. I've no idea what possessed them to buy him. I hadn't asked for a pony. I'd never really entertained the thought. Nevertheless I was thrilled! What little kid wouldn't be? I thought he was the coolest ever. I loved feeding him apples, petting him, talking to him, and just hanging out in the pasture with him. I rode him bareback a few times, and that was fun but really the best fun was just standing beside him nuzzling and being together. I guess I was a lonely little kid. Of course I didn't know it then but the fact seems pretty obvious now.

One day my grandparents had the neighbor boys over to show us how to saddle and bridle him. Sugar didn't care for this idea. I remember standing there watching, and saying "No, he doesn't like that." but they kept trying to force the bit in his mouth. I just didn't get it, what was so important about this? He resisted, they forced harder and harder. The adults surrounded him, they were determined. Finally Sugar reared up and bolted away, full speed into the upper pasture. I was glad it was over.

Not long afterward back at home, my mom got a call. I could tell she was agitated on the phone. When she got off, she told me that Nana and Frank had sold Sugar because he was dangerous, they were afraid he would hurt me. I protested and insisted that he'd never hurt me but it was a done deal. I cried and cried. I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye. It hurt so much.

Today my adult mind was reflecting on this memory and inevitably I came to -
WTF were they thinking? What was the point? Why did they say he was mine? They bought him for me? No!
And then I realized -
They bought him for themselves, so they could think of themselves as loving giving indulgent grandparents and enjoy the fun of teaching me to "ride" all proper like. They couldn't conceive of the fact that I was completely content to simply love him as a big pet, as a friend. That'd be a childish thing and unreasonable. They paid good money for him and he was supposed to perform, make them look good, fulfill the vision they had planned. (Yeah I really am slow sometimes :)

I understand now that they never considered my feelings or desires. I suspect they were incapable of doing so. They were motivated by their own needy egos. It was never about me.

Just another example of the emotional myopathy that surrounds us all everyday.