![]() ![]() Sat aboard the 3/2 favorite, Pitons Punch, Slade says he knew that trainer Robert Peirce had given him a sound opportunity to finally take that walk into the winners circle. With a few near misses at the wire in his 30 mounts throughout the summer, that maiden win eluded him until Oct. Lifted into the saddle of Thunder Lady for the fourth race on opening day at Garrison Savannah Racecourse in Barbados, the rookie jockey finished sixth followed by a third aboard Pray For Me in the seventh race and a tenth place finish with Ultimate in the last of ten races that day. On June 18, 2021, at age 15, Slade Jones embarked on his dream to emulate the success of his patriarchs. Having the name Jones in Barbados racing circles brings with it a level of expectation.Įmbarking on a career under high expectations can pile high the pressure especially when ambition and drive are proving not be enough to get past the milestone of your maiden win. Like the ocean carries its ships to port.When Slade Jones won his first race as a jockey, he felt relief above all else. Inhale, exhale, towel off, breathe again, dry. Like I have had to relearn what it means to be kind, Like I have not yet been able to safeguard it, Like her mamma carried hers in the soles of her feet Like my grandma carried hers in the crook of her thighs, Like my mamma carries hers in her apex of her chest, What it is like not to prepare myself for this unmooring.Īnd the other is the gold around my neck,Īnd imagine what it might be like to drown, I don’t know what it’s like to not consider what it might be like to lose someone. When the living thing surrounding you dies, all that is left to hold you are the dead. The paradigmatic domino falling back into the sea. And remember that the touchstone was, itself, the first ship. Consider what is meant by the Unmooring: the loss of attachment the release from the barge the heavy, obsequious confusion manifesting the supreme lack the slow slip from contact with reality the casting about for the touchstone. Consider the paradigmatic shift of the slow domino effect: the vessels calmly, surely, drifting from the anchors of themselves, the silent remove. Consider how it ever so steadily unmoors more anchors than its own. Consider its connection to the larger fleet. ![]() I imagine that by the end of this, we will have learned to sustain bereavement reactions, reactive depressions. That wish of wind has calmly removed its pull of gravity, without warning, without witness. That hope has run back again, a wave riding into the misty sea. That promise has slipped from this place. But, then again, that anchor has found itself unmoored. Which is also to say, you want to be lent a wish. Which is to say, you want to be lent security. The remnants of a heavier past preceding the pandemonium. When you lose someone, a future dies, and I think, then, all you want is to be lent gravity. The waves on the misty sea running, back, again and again and again. I imagine it is like a ship whose anchors have themselves unmoored and slipped from this place without witness, without warning a calm remove from the sense of windy gravity felt only moments before. But any relationship that ends while the world is ending is a particular palindromic type of grief. I imagine any relationship that ends is a grief. Or, at least, the one with them, that you thought about with them, in it. ![]()
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