Country imagines & preferences

Cowgirls don't cry - Reba McEntire

"Her daddy gave her, her first pony

Then taught her to ride

She climbed high in that saddle

Fell I don't know how many times"

Born and raised on a small town in Oklahoma, you were happy living in a small farm with your family. Since childhood you learn how to garden and how to ride, and the truth is that you were little girl really proud to be a country girl.

You remember when you turned six and all your aunts and uncles and cousins made it to your birthday party. For a couple of weeks you had been asking your parents for something. A gift you dreamed of, but you weren't sure if your parents could give it to you.

"Are you happy, darling?", your mother asked you while you were opening some gifts.

"Yes, mama.", you said, but that was not entirely true.

Your family had offered you toys, clothes and books, but it seemed that none of that had excited you. You wanted something else. But maybe you weren't old enough yet.

"Sweetie, come with me." your father told you when he saw that there was something you wanted so much more than those toys. "I think I forgot a gift out there."

Your eyes shined with those words.

Another gift? Was that it?

A smile came to your little lips as you saw the gift outside. Your parents had remembered! It was exactly what you wanted for your birthday.

By the barn was a pony! A lovely white pony.

"It's so cute!", you exclaimed. "Thanks mom and dad!", and you hugged them.

While growing up that pony was everything to you. Your father taught you how to ride even though you fell of that saddle so many times. You had grown up watching your father ride his horse by the farm and all you wanted to be was a cowgirl when you were big enough.

When you fell once more from your pony, your father helped you up off the dirt floor.

"No matter how many times you fall, sweetie. What matters is to get up always," your father told you. "Because cowgirls don't cry.".

"She grew up, she got married

But never was quite right

She wanted a house, a home and babies

He started comin' home late at night"

Looking out the window of your little house, you expected your husband to return home after another Friday night at the bars downtown. You had married young, although everyone warned you it was too early for such commitments. But you loved him so much. How could this love now seem to have dissipated over time?

Outside it was starting to rain and inside your eyes were full of tears.

You loved him. Had he stopped loving you?

Your dog Babe has touched your legs with his nose to get your attention. Maybe even he could see how sad you were. But if you felt so unhappy why were you still there? Why did you continue to love that man who only knew how to break your heart?

You dreamed of a beautiful white house on the hill and a happy family. But now those dreams seemed to have happened an eternity ago...

When had you become that sad, dreamless woman?

Still looking out the window, you saw the headlights of a car in the distance illuminating the road and you wondered if it would be your husband returning home. But the car didn't stop. And you watched him move away until he was nothing but a point on the distant horizon.

You wanted to cry... To fall to the ground and cry 'till all the tears inside you dry. You wanted to be happy. Didn't you deserve to be happy?

And wiping away a few tears that kept on falling, it was as if inside you could hear your father's voice say something to you: Cowgirls don't cry.

"Phone rang early one mornin'

Her momma's voice, she'd been cryin'

Said it's your daddy, you need to come home

This is it, I think he's dyin'"

You never thought you could ever receive that call. As you listened to your mother's hurt voice on the other side of the phone, you didn't want to believe it was real.

It was not possible...

But your mother's words did not lie.

"It's your father ..." she said trying to hold back the tears "He is sick... I think he is dying ..."

Your heart could have stopped beating at that moment. Your hands were shaking as you tried to hold the phone. There were no words you could say at that moment.

Your father ... he was dying.

"You need to come home.", your mother begged you.

After you were married, you had moved to another city a few hours away. You just had to pack a bag of the essentials and you would leave immediately. You wanted to be on your father's side. You wish you could take his hand and tell him how much you loved him.

"Can I talk to him?"

On the other side, your mother handed her the cell phone.

"Dad ... I'm going home now." you said.

It took a while for him to finally speak.

"I love you sweetie. I think I'm sick ..." he said. His voice was so different and you couldn't stop crying. "It's fine, sweetie. I think it's my time. But please don't cry. Because cowgirls don't cry."

"Cause cowgirls don't cry, ride, baby, ride

Lessons of life are gonna show you in time

Soon enough you gonna know why

It's gonna hurt every now and then

If you fall get back on again

Cowgirls don't cry"

Looking down the road through the windshield of the car, you knew that leaving your little hometown behind was the best thing to do. You wanted to be happy. You had to be happy. You deserved a good life with someone who loved you, a little white house in the hills and a family.

And behind the wheel of your old Chevrolet you knew that nothing in life was easy. But you also knew that in spite of everything in life, cowgirls don't cry.

*****

To: southernauthor 

Hope you liked it.❤ 

- With love, Ana xx