The Same but Different

The Sunday of Labor Day weekend, Sister Pister and I went for a late afternoon ride.  It was the same as so many rides we have shared in the past.  My little sister thinking I'm mildly ridiculous for stopping us when something shiny or otherwise needing of attention catches my eye with my tendency to bounce around too much in the saddle while she yells at me, "Put your butt down!" 

It was also the same with her underestimating my horse-ness.  Which honestly is totally spot on because when it comes to all things neigh, my sister has me out done by miles.  "So Amy, do you think you can side pass him over here?" 

Yes I can.  Watch this.

And now smile dang it.

Riding with my little sister on a perfect sunny warm but with that twinge of chill in the air of a soon to be approaching fall afternoon was so very much the same as always.  We visited and laughed and meandered our way through the fields around the farm while the horses hooves swished through the amber stubble.  

But it was also very different.  Different because it was Sister Pister's first weekend home from college.  We had to plan our riding.  It wasn't like I could simply drive to the farm and know she'd be there; I had to schedule in a time.  Excuse me little sister, just so you know, you better always make time for me.  Thank you. 

Our relationship is morphing yet again.  As all real relationships do.  I get so excited to hear her talk about college; the dorms, the parties, the new friends, the rock climbing class, the homework, all of it really.  Because it reminds me how precious all of the different stages in our lives are.  Reminds me it's all fleeting.  The feelings of never thinking you'll feel quite at home in a new city, the feelings of not having your people nearby, the feelings of what do I do with my life?  They, just like any emotion brought about by a stage change, are gone almost as fast as they came rushing in.   

And then comes the next phase of well now whats?  The next phase of finding our way in the new. 

What I'm learning about myself is I grow the most during the beginning pushing of life stage changing.

I don't want to go so far as to say I crave that kind of uncertainty and unabsoluteness, but there is a strong sense of empowerment which always follows the getting through and that makes me want.  

Makes me want to be always checking in with myself and never becoming complacent with my day to day.  Makes me want to learn new things and meet new people and discover new places and stretch my legs, arms, and wings.  

Right now, I can tell I'm on the verge of my next phase change.  It's there.  Tugging at me.  How it will exactly all play out is not for me to say.  But I do know this for sure.  I'll roll along with it and try my hardest to not use fear as an excuse.  And the things that make me...well me, will stay as carry on luggage for whatever the journey is.     

The other night, my mom and I were picking in the garden in the crisp air.  My phone made it's ding and I looked down to see a text from my sister, "I was nominated to the homecoming planning committee!"  I yelled to Momma Debi to tell her and then proceeded to have a quick conversation with my sister exclaiming my happiness for her and telling her to "get out there and do her thing and thank you for telling me!"  Her reply was, "You're the only person who would get as excited as me."  Because she knows.  She knows no matter what phase or stage or level of adult I'm in...

Homecoming will always get me.  

As will being in the garden with my mom.

As will walking into the kitchen to see my dad taking the time to cut up enough squash to make a plain batch for me, sans butter and brown sugar.

As will observing my nieces and nephews' shenanigans while Sil tries to get them in the car to leave; I laugh at that kind of thing.  To the point of tears rolling laugh.   

As will my sister-in-law looking at me through the glass and then rolling it down to say, "Just you wait!  Someday it will be me laughing!"   

As will afternoon rides with my little sister ending with a slobbery hand of horse goo.