Trying to rebound, regroup, recover from a brutal day at the races. Texts, calls and emails from friends, comrades who have been there before. They help salve, staunch an open wound.
Went for a ride today on Lemonade Thursday. Looked out in the front field and watched Kissin Conquest, Linda’s Blueberry, Apse and Eagle Poise gallivant around. Some get so lucky. Others pay the ultimate price. The swing of the pendulum, the throw of the dice. I can’t make any sense out of it and need to stop trying.
Dad called like he does. My 90-year-old father, a retired horse trainer with good decisions and bad decisions along the long old road. We chatted. I told him I was resilient. It’s being tested. He knows it.
