My mother is 62. She is beautiful, funny and has quick wit. She rides horses. And when she rides,  it is the most fascinating, bold, courageous sight to see.

Let me back up for a moment, my mother is Mexican. My mother’s step-father was a horse trainer. Growing up they lived in a trailer on a rich lady’s property; they were the hired help. They were poor. Yet on that farm, in the trailer, helping her step-dad, it is there my mother fell in love with riding horses. She rode the rich lady’s horse with dreams of one day owning her own horse and always took the little white-girls’ hand me downs. She claims her love for horses is what kept her out trouble and especially provided her a dream to pursue college and get out of her hometown.

She went to college as an Equestrian studies major and when her roommate showed up in a pink cadillac and a matching pink cadillac horse trailer, she realized one simple fact when it came to owning a horse; you have to be rich. So therefore the dream faded away and she got married, raised kids and it got tucked away as one of those things that kids just dream about.

Until she turned 55 years old. And my brother took her horse back riding for Mother’s Day. She hadn’t been on a horse in 30 years. And she cried. And realized, it’s time to get back on the horse again. And so she did.

Not only did she get back on the horse. She rode every day and saved up every penny and eventually bought a horse. A gorgeous show horse. An expensive horse. She earned it.

One Christmas I bought my mother a brand spanking new bridle (it was $100) and she got a weepy looking at it. And she said, you know I never thought I deserved new things. Even after all these years, I never thought I was worthy of owning brand new things.

I look at my mother and think; you can achieve your dreams. You can get back on the horse again no matter what your age.

And you know what? I have never seen her more happy, her hair more shiny or her smile quite as white as when she is on that horse.