A Home Grown Heaven

Miss Cowboy Club resonates with me so deeply I had to share our story. My mother and grandparents were deeply involved in equine life from cowboy polo, saddle club, and everything in between. Leaving out the details, by the time I was old enough to ponder what it was like to be a cowgirl those relationships were strained and we unfortunately did not have contact with one another. I remember begging God for reconciliation and wow does He show up in the wildest ways.

 

 

 

When my grandmother was unfortunately diagnosed with lymphoma everything changed. Every grudge withered away and my parents ended up on a piece of property just around the corner from my grandparents to aid in their caretaking. Since then, that property has seen over seven horses, donkeys, goats, a bull, and it reignited the cowgirl spirit in me. Not only has my grandmother healed but I’ve been blessed to learn to ride from her, my mother, and my grandfather. Spending time at the stables, grooming, and riding the horses has given us a shared passion and common ground again. We communicate better, we care for one another better, and understand each other more deeply than ever before. It's as if the horses have become a bridge, helping us to reconcile and appreciate the unique story of our family.

 

 

 

I’ll leave you with a poem I wrote about what it feels like to be home now:

 

A Home Grown Heaven

The Promise Land

If I could choose

Would be ours

Our red fence line

Made of repurposed wagon wheels and calloused palms

Our dirt acreage

paved with value even Beverly Hills couldn't comprehend

The kind of values

Where men take their hat off before they shake your hand

Door handles aren't meant for women

And police eat for free at the corner store

Where American flags fly freely

With no question whether if we stand

And Grandma says "come on back now"

To strangers or a friend

The stories Grandpa tells live forever

His love just as steady as his hands used to be

Where every tale ends in "I Reckon"

And work ethic is just a question of when not why

Where roosters and your Dad's shop tools are better alarms

Than the ones you set last night

And even with no measurements

Mom's cooking is always right

Where horses are your church

Jesus loves Wranglers

And the Holy Spirit strides just as smoothly as the animal beneath you

When the turns you take are either God's will or your discipline to hold the reins steady

 

 

With all my love,

Quincy Janisse