A couple of years into Alzheimer’s, my father was told that he shouldn’t be riding horses anymore. It happened at my parents’ ranch. John Barletta, the former Secret Service agent who became my father’s companion in ranch work, animal care, and riding, told my mother that on their ride that morning, he was making “rookie mistakes.” This man who could pretty much handle any horse was mishandling the ride so conspicuously that Barletta was afraid for his safety. So, he went to my mother and told her that my father had to stop riding, or he was going to get hurt. She asked Barletta to tell him, saying my father would take it better coming from him. So, he did. He explained to my father that the morning’s ride was rife with mistakes and risky oversights, at which point he teared up. My father put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, asked what he wanted, and when Barletta said, “You have to stop riding,” he answered, “It’s okay, John. I know.”

 The only thing my father loved more than riding was my mother. He was fond of saying, “The best thing for the inside of a man is the outside of a horse.” I grew up learning about life by watching my father train and nurture horses. To give that up was a sacrifice that I don’t think anyone believed he would make easily. Yet he did. Standing in front of his friend’s tears, seeing how hard this was for him, he gave up something that had nourished his soul for half his life.

  I’ve thought about that recently because of what President Biden has had to give up – the highest office in the land, which eluded him for many years, which he finally attained, and which he wanted to hang onto because he loves this country and wants to see it be a beacon in the world. Sometimes our character, our strength is revealed not by what we carry into battle but by what we relinquish. Legacies are often marked by the grace of surrender, the willingness to own our frailties, and look clearly at how time’s shadows are swirling around us. There is great courage in that. And while many are relieved that President Biden took the step he did, there are – and should be – some tears shed. Eventually, time will lean on all of us in whatever ways it does. It will ask us to open our hearts, our hands, and let go. 

 After saying, “I know,” and agreeing to no longer ride, my father watched his beloved horses from windows, from the edges of fields, holding inside him – I hope – the years of riding that filled up his soul. Joe Biden is letting go of the presidency, but he is not letting go of America. His imprint is on us; he loved this country enough to step aside and hand the hope for her future to someone who is farther away from Time’s hard grasp. It’s a lesson in grace that should inspire gratitude in all of us.