There is an old photograph of us somewhere in Dad's cardboard treasure trove of pictures. I want to find it this summer when we go back to Texas. I can see the image clearly in my mind as I write. A moment of youth and sun and love, frozen in time on a piece of faded Kodak paper.
I was so happy. He was so handsome--tall, muscular, golden. We were only with each other briefly, yet those moments together have yielded a lifetime of fond memories.
My first love.
Long before my Dear Professor journeyed from south Texas to practice law in my hometown on the Gulf Coast, there was another man in my life. His name was Sonny.
I don't remember what attracted me first, his athletic Aryan build, or his eyes. I could get lost gazing into his deep brown eyes. He was the strong, silent type, the stuff of westerns. I felt safe with him, so I opened my heart, and he listened.
And then, just as suddenly as he entered my life, he departed. I had felt it coming. There were times when we were together that he would stare off into the distance. Words were not necessary, I could see the longing in his eyes. I knew that what I had to offer was not enough.
I never saw him again. But somewhere, somewhere there is that photograph. And in my heart, there are the memories. Memories of sun, and Saturdays, and Sonny.
The most beautiful palomino gelding I have ever known. And my first love.
Update: If you love horses, or children, or both, you must listen to these stories about special horses and children who help each other heal. Or visit the web home of Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch.