Refuge Farms (www.refugefarms.org)

It has been a bit since I've written in the blog. These past thirty days have been packed and emotional, to say the least.

There are, as one would expect in today's world, the constant, daily pleadings for horses to be taken in. Every single day - every single day - there is at least one email or one telephone call with a story and the question, "Will you take my horse?" To continually have only adoption to offer to those in such tight corners is difficult and easily makes one feel as if they are doing nothing at all. Sometimes its tough to remember that you are making a difference out there.

There has been the deteriorating health of Addie-Girl and recently Miss April's sudden and severe attack. The surgery for Dude. And the thrush of Vic. But these are the things you sign up for when you take on the "diers". And I do all of this willingly.

And somewhere in these past thirty days, in a span of only ten days, my entire past life came flooding to me and just about overwhelmed me. My Andy reared his head in an email I received from a young man who had worked for him in Oklahoma City. A young man that did not know of Andy's love for horses. Or even that Andy had died. How very, very sad on both accounts.

But clearly, as I opened the email, I felt the presence of the man right in my face. That strong face and the deep Texan voice. The respect and consideration he gave to me. The twinkle of his eyes. And his challenge for me to make a difference with "Charity Case". Well, "Charity Case" is blooming with peonies and iris and looking quite like he did when he ran the pastures - a gloriously free little mess!

Not even 48 hours after receiving the Andy email, my early career was in my face. Literally. Dan was here from Tennessee and I was transformed back to my late 20's with my future and the world in the palm of my hand. My technical counterpart stood in front of me and we connected as if the thirty years of time had never passed. An afternoon spent in our youth was good for both of us. And then Dan returned to Tennessee and I went back to cleaning barns.

Then on Memorial Day, of all days, my childhood appeared in my driveway. I ran up to the car to insure the guests to our Public Hours were greeted and there stood Butchie. Dear heavens, there stood Butchie! I screamed and we hugged. It had been how long? "Forty-two years," Butchie said. "Just forty-two years".

I grew up riding to school with Butchie's parents. My Dad and I plowed their driveway in the winters on our bulldozer. His parents were a model to me as another couple who loved each other and raised their two children with morals and manners and rules. Our families were similar and here he stood in front of me. I was standing next to Butchie!

As we walked to the barns, Butchie began to recall and tell me his memories of my Dad, my Mom, and my Sister. Butchie recalled how "Don always had that cigarette hanging from his mouth. An unfiltered Camel. And Sandy right next to him." It was thrilling - so very thrilling - to speak with another Human Being who had known my family. Someone who knew what they had looked like and who knew the sound of their voices. Oh, the thrill it brought to me! I felt by hugging Butchie I was somehow back on Gothenburg Road in Homecroft and the whole family would be home for dinner soon... And so my family came to me on Memorial Day.

All in all, it has been a bit of a roller coaster ride. And it has taken me a bit of time to trust these fingers at the keyboard. And yes, Father's Day is almost upon us. But I, of course, want to take you back to Mother's Day. I must tell you of Mother's Day. Where I was. What I saw. What I heard. The mark it has left on my heart.

Picture this: You are in the flats of Salt Lake City. A clean city and a mannerly, very polite city. Within thirty minutes, you can be in the mountains on your skis. Swooshing down the snow while the iris are blooming in your front yard.

The sun is shining and there is a gentle spring breeze. It is Sunday morning in Salt Lake City. And if you were a guest of that city on that day, where would you go? The Mormon Tabernacle Temple, of course.

So off we go and we arrive in time to stand in line for the 9:30am televised service. It is a service of music and celebration. The Mormon Tabernacle Temple and yes, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. It truly doesn't get any better than this!

As we are greeted upon entry to the sanctuary, I hear "Happy Mother's Day" greetings floating around and it dawns on me that this is indeed a very special service we are about to witness. I feel a twinge of loneliness as I realize the distance that is between me and The Herd. They are my children, you know, and a Mother wants to be with her children on Mother's Day.

The service is rehearsed and I am in awe. The pipe organ has over 10,000 pipes. Holy smokes! The choir is enormous and all dressed in matching gowns or suits. The orchestra is talented, to say the least, and the timpani make the walls vibrate. It is heaven for a college music major! Absolute heaven to be there!

The service went without a hitch and the live telecast was complete. Were we dismissed? Not yet! You see, an author was present in the audience and as a tribute to the man, the choir and orchestra would play their Emmy-winning version of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". Oh my. Oh my!

My chest could not swell any more. My ears could not hear any more. My heart could not beat any faster. And my mind could not absorb any more. Tears ran as I listened and absorbed as much as I could. I was in the Mormon Tabernacle while the Mormon Tabernacle Choir performed "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". It truly doesn't get any better than this!

The last verse was repeated after we had been invited to sing along. So we did. With our shaky voices. Shaky from the emotions running wild through the chapel. And so as an added bonus on that Mother's Day, I sang with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Oh, it truly doesn't get any better than this!

But during the service, I felt a bit of my heart record a memory that I will keep with me, I think, forever. On this sunny day in Salt Lake City, I listened to a song which was my very own heart singing. A song of devotion and loyalty. Of hard work and fierce protection. Of caring and giving. Of forgiveness and honesty. It was The Three Promises that I give to these beaten up, thrown out horses when they arrive. It was my vows of love and protection to them. And those vows were simply being put to music and now sung to me. I heard the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing "Not While I'm Around".

The song is from the Stephen Sondheim musical "Sweeny Todd" and could not have been more appropriate for the Mothers sitting in the audience. It hit home, to say the least. So, I will leave you with some of the stanzas of the song and picture yourself there....in the 1800's chapel with the sunlight streaming through the windows. In early spring when the immaculately groomed gardens are making the air light with fragrance. With an orchestra's strings delicately setting the background for the women's floating voices. And then you hear your very own heart singing...

Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around.
Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around.

No one's gonna hurt you,
No one's gonna dare.
Others can desert you,
Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there.

Being close and being clever
Ain't like being true
I don't need to,
I would never hide a thing from you.

Not to worry, not to worry
I may not be smart but I ain't dumb
I can do it, put me to it
Show me something I can overcome
Not to worry.

No one's gonna hurt you, no one's gonna dare
Others can desert you,
Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there!
Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while
But in time...
Nothing can harm you
Not while I'm around.

Now really, it truly, truly doesn't get much better than this!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd