To My Cowboy

 

 "Home by Sunset" by B. Herd, artist

 

Before we married in 2009, Anthony and I explored the studio of B. Herd, an artist in Salado, Texas.  Anthony admired his work. As an early gift either right before we married or perhaps right after we married, I gave him a signed print of "Home by Sunset" and wrote a poem to him to go along with this, a poem of a cowboy who had finally found himself "home," finally safe and sound.

On our 10-year anniversary in 2019, I wrote a 2nd version of this poem to reflect the changes in our lives and in our marriage.

What lies below is the third version of this poem that I wrote him this summer after his father died.  We had both been through so much individually and as a family.  

Little did I know that this would be the last one I would write, but on the 1-month anniversary of the day I firmly believe Anthony really died, I decided I would share this to reflect just what he did for me as a person and the way he made me have strength to move forward day by day without him beside me.  I hope he forgives me for sharing this honest of a letter with others.

 

 

 

Years ago you found me.
I was beside the path, searching for a home myself.
Broken, bruised, afraid,
Wanting to be cared for, but scared to hope,
Scared to be hurt again, scared to be let down again.

I had been hollowed out and scooped out, 

All my strengths made to appear to be weaknesses,

Scared of my own reflection for fear of others' ridicule and rejection,

Confident only in my ability to love my children and teach.

Believing lies for years and then doubting myself to trust the truth.

I was scared to love again.

Scared to believe again.

You lifted me up to sit beside you.
You taught me to be courageous,
to trust,
to believe I was safe.

What mountains we have climbed, what trails we have explored,
What empty beaches have we walked, what vistas captured in the camera lens,
We have seen our young ones spread their wings and leave us behind, growing up before our eyes.
We have enjoyed meals under the tent, dog cuddles, and shared meals.
We have multiplied the people we call family.
We have laughed and cried and laughed some more.

We have also passed through many valleys.
We have walked in black among the tombstones at least 3 times,
We have experienced multiple emotional deaths of friendships that dried up and crumbled,
Many moments of broken hearts from the departure of our passion-filled boy,
Sudden shocks of jobs lost, shaking our worlds,
Physical challenges that have made traveling this path difficult.

Oh, how we have changed.
The pants sizes, the shirt sizes, the wrinkles, the curves.
The heart scares, the cancer scares,
The house repairs,
The job changes,
The religious beliefs once a solid foundation shaken to the core,
The world we knew no longer the one we thought always existed,
The masks and COVID lines,
Midlife questions, midlife hormones, empty nest syndrome,
Anxiety, depression, uncertainty.

We are . . .
Not the same as the original cowboy with the girl by his side.
Not the same as the cowboy and wife of 2009 or 2019.
Both of us changed forever.

We are different, our bodies and minds and emotions different.
But we can still face it together.
You and me.
Me and you.
Taking turns.
Joining forces.
Fighting enemies.

“Husband in battle, I am shield and blade to you. As I breathe, your enemies will know no sanctuary. While I live, your cause is mine.”  (paraphrased from Wonder Woman:  Warbringer)


I love you.



July 29, 2022