Friday, August 26, 2022
My favorite story of Aunt Kathy was the time she invited me to the horse shows in Syracuse. Being the youngster I was, I asked if I could bring a friend and the Bowens gracefully agreed. My friend and I had a ball on that outing, sleeping in the camper in the back of the truck overnight, walking Tiny the beagle around around the fairgrounds, exploring places that would have been too packed had it been fair season, playing cards and eating Soft Batch cookies, which were a novelty at the time. That night, a family a couple rows over was having a barbecue and we got to try some elk Spiedies there. It wasn't until decades later that I realized I had been tested to see if I'd be interested in becoming Aunt Kathy's next horse-show protege. I unknowingly (but happily) failed miserably – neither my friend nor I had much interest in the show itself, though we've both been life-long horse people and loved being around the horses in general. I'd loved horses all my life. At each visit to Binghamton as a kid, I could hardly wait to hear the words “Let's go check on the horses. We have a new baby to show you.” The time they boosted us up to ride old Sandy, the palomino, bareback while they led us around in the field below the road probably cemented my love of horses, which I have to this day. During one visit, they took us with them on an errand to another horse barn (or was it Heaven?), where I saw a 6 month-old foal that I just had to have. Not long after that, she came here to live and I had her for 27 years. Uncle Doug and Aunt Kathy taught us the basics, and got me started with my first set of brushes and grooming equipment, which I still have. Any time they heard I was in a bind, they were kind and generous, helping in whatever way they could. Decades later, when I had to board Crickette at their place temporarily, I'd finish up at the barn and walk down the hill to the house, and we'd sit around and visit, adults to adults for the first time. Without their help, I might never have made my dream of horse-ownership happen. Their gentle nudges in the right direction opened up a whole new world for me, and for that I'll be forever grateful to both of them. I still smile at Uncle Doug's story of how he sold the glasses right off his face to some guy at a bowling alley who had borrowed them and commented on how much better he could see with them. (I still have the saddle Uncle Doug sold to Dad for me, too, by the way.) Aunt Kathy and Uncle Doug always made me feel welcome. They both enjoyed swapping stories, even better if a dog was leaning in for some attention while we talked. I didn't make it down to visit as much as I should have, and they never stopped on their way back and forth to the shows like I always reminded them they should, but we knew what was in our hearts and that was enough. Though the paths we took in our horse worlds were different ones, we shared a kindred spirit; I too love horses (and dogs, cats, birds, etc). Aunt Kathy was also supportive of my magazine articles, oohing and aahhing when I sent one along for her to read. She and I shared a love for author James Herriott's books: All Creatures, Great and Small, All Things Bright and Beautiful, All Things Wise and Wonderful, and the Lord God Made them All. I guess that says it all. - Marlene Mead
