Sunday, November 13, 2011
I never met Carmon, never had opportunity to hear her laughter. We never said, bless you, to each other's sneezes or clinked our glasses in toast to our successes. She was, however, my friend for several years.
We met through each other's websites. She was a tremendous support during the time I was caring for my mother, and when Mom passed away. I will always remember and appreciate Carmon's words and her kindness during that time. We further connected through horses and compassion. The above photo is of her magnificient dabbled grey horse, Griton, one of many BLM Mustangs that she and her husband, Mike, saved.
Carmon's compassion was enormous and she put so much energy into following through on her beliefs. I enjoyed reading about the work she did towards adopting and acclimating rescue horses into her care, or finding the right home for those she was unable to take in. She adopted rescue Greyhounds as well. Carmon's heart was a big one, her respect for and knowledge of animals tremendous. She was incredibly kind and patient with the animals in her life, and so skilled at helping abused animals trust humans again. For years I enjoyed reading about her process and progress with her animals.
We had hoped to meet, but on two occasions the snow and ice kept us from doing so. Next time, we said. There won't be a next time. Carmon passed away on Friday. Melonoma stole her from this life. The last time she posted on her website, Life at Star's Rest, she did so under the heading, I'm doing alright! She closed that post with these words just after Mike left the hospital to care for the horses and dogs: I still smell of woodsmoke from where he hugged me and I'll wrap the scent warm and close around me through the night.
Today, I find tremendous comfort in her words as I know the scent of loved ones is a powerfully comforting blanket and I'm glad my friend had that.
There is so much more that I can write, that I can share with you about Carmon, but I find that I'm at a loss for words as I absorb the news of Carmon's death. Sometimes, silence is what is the most soothing.
On the sidebar of Carmon's website, are these words by Stanley Harrison:
Somewhere in time's own space,
there must be some sweet pastured place.
Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow,
some paradise where the horses go;
for by the love that guides my pen,
I know great horses live again.
I believe that somewhere in time's own space in a sweet pastured place, Carmon is with the great horses who live again, with her beloved Star again.
Neither of the photos in this post are my own, I think obviously. Still, I want to say that because copyrights were important to Carmon. The first photo is one she took; the second one is credited to her husband, Mike. I copied these from her website without permission but I do give full credit.