Every Moment Became a Gift: Sarah's Story
2024, the year I got a boob job. January 3, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was at WindWalkers when I got the call. The first person I told was Beth. Holding back tears, I told her I had breast cancer. She embraced me in a bear hug and told me it would be okay. We both cried a bit and then continued on. The rest of the afternoon was a blur, and that night I went straight to my primary to make a plan and see what the future would be.
The first couple of weeks after diagnosis, I fluctuated between tears and feeling terrified, feeling numb, feeling angry and wanting things to just go back to the way they used to be. I wanted to know that I would still be alive to see my kids grow up. I wanted to know that I would still be able to do the things I used to do–but mainly I wanted to know it would all be okay. Before January 3rd, my gauge of how bad something was was ‘at least it’s not cancer’. After January 3, I had to come up with a new worst-case scenario.
One of the people I told right away was Gail Mathieson, a long-time WindWalkers volunteer turned staff member, turned volunteer again. She dropped everything and came up to the barn Thursday afternoon right after I got the news. I remember not knowing what to do or what to think, and she looked at me and said, “you can do hard things”. That was a motto that I would take with me throughout the next several months as I had a double mastectomy, radiation, lots of follow-ups, and eventually my final reconstructive surgery.
Before breast cancer, I took so much for granted–the things that used to annoy me, my kids being too loud, the house always being a mess, always feeling like I had more to do than I had time for–after breast cancer, every moment became a gift. Being with noisy kids, embracing a house that was full of life, a LIFE that was full of life, it was all a gift. Though I wouldn’t wish cancer on anyone, I am thankful for it. I learned that the community I have at WindWalkers goes much farther than ‘just a job’. I discovered that the community I had was there with me through thick and thin.
I’ve always been overwhelmed that I get paid to do what I do. Teaching people to ride and interact with horses is my greatest joy, so the paycheck is a bonus. But during my cancer journey, I discovered that WindWalkers is more than just a place I go to work. It is a community of people who are there for a bigger purpose, who show up for more than themselves. I realized that so many people are going through hard things, and yet they still show up for others. I realize this is the heart of what WindWalkers was created for.
In 2005, I got a call from Jay Swan; she heard I had returned to the valley and shared with me her vision for a therapeutic horsemanship program. She wanted to create something that would provide healing and wholeness for anyone who needed it–recognizing that the family and caregivers of those in need are as much in need of support and wellness as the individual with disabilities. I loved the vision, so I put my other plans on hold and stayed to help her get WindWalkers off the ground. My four horses moved up to Carbondale, and we started teaching lessons. After about 8 months, WindWalkers was up and growing, and so I moved on, ready for the next adventure.
Never did I imagine that one day I would be back in Colorado, working for WindWalkers. And definitely never did I imagine that I would get to experience the healing and wholeness that WindWalkers provides for myself. Breast cancer was a battle that I never wanted to fight, but one that I did not fight alone. The community of WindWalkers stepped up and walked alongside me. Never did I feel alone; my family was cared for, and I was cared for. Some of our incredible volunteers brought me meals; several of my student families made care packages and stocked up my freezer before surgery. Our Equine Chiropractor Cindy Wallace gave me much-needed advice for recovering from a mastectomy. Jenni Fautsko, mom of our amazing rider Turner, was one of the first people I reached out to–she was a breast cancer survivor herself and gave me so much hope and encouragement –and recommended her plastic surgeon, who I would go on to use.
When I was able to return to work, I felt a whole new appreciation for what Jay had created all those years ago. WindWalkers is truly a place where anyone can come as they are, bring their baggage, leave it at the door (or on the back of a horse), and leave refreshed and encouraged. I am so deeply grateful for the community of WindWalkers, the staff, volunteers, participants, and their families, and of course the horses that provide so much in the simplicity of their gentle hoof falls and warm breath.
- Sarah English, October 2026
