Gold

The smell immediately takes me back.

The smell, the sounds, the sunsets...

Leathery saddles and intricate, tattered bridles, oiled with the sweat and scent of horses.  Hay and freshly cut grass, the dusty barn.  The subtle bray when they see us coming to ride or feed them.  The cows pounding the dirt, quickly running from us.  Ponds with water lilies atop and catfish below.   The wild fright that consumes me at night, backed up to a stunning national forest, listening to the coyotes howl, knowing snakes, bears, wildlife surround.  The orange-pink sky when the sun goes down behind the mountain.

 

Every. Summer. Of.  My.  Childhood.

 

It's money.  Not the kind you can spend, but gold for the soul.

 

But the golden sun is setting for the last time on something that's been a part of my life since I was 6 years old.

It's been looming, it was absolutely expected, and it is an incredibly natural part of life.

But I guess I’ve been ignoring all that, because I was in no way prepared. In fact, it was a slap in the face when mom called a few months ago.

 

All she said was, “the ranch sold.”

...the ranch sold...

Prickly pins began sticking the backs of my eyes.  So. Hard.

...but you knew it was coming...

Lump in throat.

...it’s been for sale for years, ever since Pops died...

"How much longer do we have it?" I asked.

"Until The first part of August, so this’ll be our last summer," she replied.

 

I hung up and felt sick to my stomach, like someone had died.  That same heartache, loss.  The flood of memories.

 

I know, I know, it's land, for God's sake.  But it's land where I was raised, land my grandparents made home until their deaths.  Land that's served as the axis of my being throughout my entire life.  Gold for my soul.  The place I'd go to forget heartache.  The place I knew I would always find unconditional, unwavering, adoring love.  Where a joke greeted me every time and laughter took over the minute I walked through the door.  Where tears were safely shed and wiped away, where shenanigans and tomfoolery took over almost immediately.  Where the biggest stressor was figuring out who would be the next victim of a prank

 

I'm not sure how you say goodbye to 40 years of that.  But I'm doing it as I type here.  I've been doing it all summer.   

Recalling all the rides with my grandfather on my horse Rebel's back...

 

 The time I "ran away" because I was mad at all the adults...

Remembering every Christmas when Santa Claus showed up without fail...



Thinking of when we caught the "big one" at the far pond...

 

Of photos my grandmother took whenever she bought me new clothes...

 All the times I helped rake and make hay every summer...

Recalling my very first dance with my Papa Gene, while my Grandma Joyce played her organ...

 

He always told me to go out into the world and "do good work."  And I did.

I ended up back in Arkansas, with that old "Ranch," an hour and fifty minutes west of Little Rock in the heart of the Ouachita National Forest, still there.  Except this time, it was my children walking on that land. 

My Papa Gene cradling my baby boy and baby girl in his kitchen and his favorite rocking chair.

 

My babies growing up feeding the horses, fishing the ponds, climbing fences.

 We've celebrated birthdays on the land.

We've hiked the forest.

 

And just last week, we said a final farewell to the old GJ Ranch.  The children don't really understand.  Since my grandparents died, it belongs to my mom's generation (she has 6 siblings, most of whom live out-of-state).  Maintenance of the large acreage is massive, and since no one lives there, upkeep would cost money.

"Why does there have to even be money, mom?" my son asked.  "Why can't everyone just have everything they want and need without it?"

Good question.

I have no great answer.  But I did explain to him that this land gave us gifts that money can't buy.  Gold for the soul. 

The cycle of life.  Endings, new beginnings.  Seeing -and being grateful for- the fact that everything that comes, goes.  All which rises, falls. 

And now, for me, a chance to give my children what was given to me.  A safe and precious place, where the love is unconditional, where the laughter is loud.  A place where it's safe to shed tears that are quickly wiped, where jokes are played.  A place that serves as the axis of their lives. 

As I took these last photos, I soaked in -for the last time- the musty smell of the barn, of horse sweat and leather saddles, the overgrown, grassy fields, the coyotes talking, that very last sunset.  And I couldn't help but think of one word:  gold