On Sunday, June 4, 2017, I scattered your ashes. I went to the beach where we had been over five years and a half ago. I will never forget how happy you were that day. More than that, you were ecstatic. In your youth, when you were still a race horse, you used to train on the beach from time to time. There is no doubt in my mind that you loved running as fast as you could on the sand, with the waves roaring and crashing near you, the wind rushing through your mane, free as a bird.
You had galloped fast before. And you galloped fast after that. Faster than any horse I had ever known, and I have met quite a lot of them. But never did you run as fast as you did on that day. You even forgot I was there, on your back, holding on to dear life as you were trying to race the wind and the sea. It was both the most terrifying, and the most exhilarating experience I have ever been through. We weren’t even able to gallop with the others, because I knew that, if we did so, I would be unable to stop you. Your thoroughbred instincts would have taken over, and you would have raced until there was no more sand before you, and even further. So it was just the two of us, you and I, as it had always been. As it always was after that.
I remember hearing people yelling at me to turn, their voice swallowed by the wind and crushed by the waves, and I could barely hear anything anyway. You were going so fast my eyes were filled with tears, and I wasn’t even sure where I was going. I had to rely on my body, and the feel of you under it, to hold on and know whether or not we were turning. I managed to put you on a giant circle, probably over one hundred metres wide, and I let you gallop to your heart’s content. I will never forget how your body felt under mine, how you were nothing but raw power, and I could feel every single one of your muscles, feel your heart beating through your chest and flanks, against my legs, your breathing and the muffled thunder of your hooves on the sand the only thing that I could truly hear over the raging wind.
I would give anything to go back to that day. Be free, once more, with feeling. Free, with you. I captured these moments the best I could, and I treasure them, holding them close to my heart.
I scattered your ashes on that beach, on the day of my birthday. I know many people think it strange, but it felt right. More than that, it was an evidence. From the bottom of my heart, and the very depths of my soul, I knew I had to do it on that precise day. I would not be able to explain it. Perhaps was I just trying to feel closer to you on that special day. Perhaps was it just time for me to let you go. Whatever the reason, I am at peace with it.
I think you would have loved that. To spend eternity on that beach. To have all of you be scattered by the wind, swallowed by the sea, mixed with the sand, until the end of time. Where you could race all the horses that come by this beach with their riders to enjoy it, as we did so many years ago. You were never meant to be buried, and trapped under the earth until kingdom come. It would have been cruel, and it would have gone against everything you stood for. It would have gone against your very nature, your very personality. Never had I met such a free-spirited being, and I am so incredibly lucky that our paths not only crossed, but went side by side for almost seven years. I had, and will have until I am no more, a duty of care ; and I hope that I did right by you until the very end.
On that day, even if your muscles screamed that you were nothing but raw power, you were dancing. You were always dancing. It was but one of the infinite things that I loved about you ; how you were always waltzing your way through life, with such ease it was shameful to the rest of us. That day, on the beach, your cavalcade might have seemed chaotic, but it may actually have been one of our most harmonic ride. You were not struggling against the wind, you were toying with it, slipping through the cracks ; a whirlwind in your own right. I did not quite grasp it at the time, I was far too overwhelmed by feelings to understand. But now I do. Now I know. You were not just galloping, you were waltzing. And you shared it with me. Thank you for that, my sweet boy. My amazing dancing horse.
“Is it wrong to understand
The fear that dwells inside a man?
What’s it like to be a loon?
I liken it to a balloon.
I danced myself out of the womb,
I dance myself out of the womb,
Is it strange to dance so soon?
I danced myself into the tomb,
But then again, once more.”
Cosmic Dancer – T-Rex
I think you were dancing to the sound of a tune only you could hear. And more often than not, you were not moving on the same tempo as the rest of the world did, and this is why almost no one could understand you. You and I, we were in synch. From the moment we met, we were always in harmony, with our very own tempo, one meant just for the two of us.
I remember once, it was the first winter after we met. You were quite dangerous that winter ; you were regaining strength as your weight was slowly coming back, and you were determined to let us know so. You would always try to throw your riders to the ground ; after a while, I was the only one not only willing to ride you, but to actively ask for it. You were moving the way Doma Vaquera horses do, and a little boy, who was watching you with incredulous eyes, yelled at his mother “Mom! Look at the horse, mom! He’s dancing!”
That little kid knew before even I did that you were, in fact, dancing. That you were always dancing. On the day you died, you were probably so busy dancing with the elements and the other horses, that you had your accident. You did, in fact, danced yourself into the tomb, I guess. I wish you would have waltzed with me a little longer, and a little further though. I miss our dances. I miss you. You’ve left me to dance alone, and I do not know how to do that. You used to lead the waltz, and I was just along for the ride. Now I have to learn to dance for myself, and I’m not sure how to go about that. Now, you are forever dancing in the wind, and in the waves. And you will be dancing there long after we are gone. My cosmic dancer.