50+ Lifestyles

PUBLISHER’S CORNER

By Dan Adams

Back in the Saddle

A few weeks ago I traveled back to Roy, Montana for my brother’s wedding. Roy is a small ranching town with a stated population of 108. My brother and his new bride found each other after other marriages, and they seem to be perfect for each other. They also own the local watering hole, which is an American Legion. I believe everyone in town was invited to the wedding. With relatives included, this local establishment held double the town’s population.
The day after the wedding, I drove home to Billings Montana to have dinner at my parents. My mother cooked quite the spread, with much of the table coming from their own garden. The tomatoes were the size of softballs and with a little salt added, they quickly brought back childhood memories of my grandparent’s garden which was ironically the size of a softball field.

After dinner my parents and I were sitting on the patio in their backyard. We were watching their pet Pheasant roaming through the raspberries, which my dad planted along the fence. Now it’s not a domesticated pheasant, nor is it really theirs. They said it’s been hanging around for a few years, and it comes back each year for the berries.
As I’m sitting there, a familiar object came into focus. I asked my mother, “that wouldn’t happen to be the same saddle hanging on your patio that was in grandma and grandpa’s garage for as long as I remember?”

She replied, “It sure is, and it was there long before your 52 years on this earth.” A flood of memories came back at that moment in time. I hung on those stirrups long before I could jump up and grab them, throughout my youth, many times over the years. The last time was a couple years ago when my wife and children were visiting and before my grandparents past away.

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked. Mom replied that it was to go to my brother in Roy, it would fit right in to the ranching community and he hasn’t had the time to come pick it up. I said “Whoa, cowgirl, I’d like to have that saddle.” When she said yes, it took me all of about 30 seconds to take it off the beam it was hanging on and throw it in the back of my rental! When the saddle arrived in Iowa via UPS, it took moments to hang it up. Not on my patio but on the wall in my office.

Now I can look up from my desk and reminisce about the many happy moments of my years with them. Many thanks to my parents for letting me have this treasure and sorry, Brother ­– you’re back in the saddle again. It’s just not the saddle I hung on as a kid!