My daughter got some bad news the other day, a young man she knew from high school was killed in a gun accident. She’s taking the news hard. He was 21 years old. Her friend was going out with the guys to practice shooting guns. I understand the dad asked to go along and brought his own guns. He handed one to his son, but it didn’t have a safety lock on it and the son accidentally shot himself. While he was rushed to the hospital, he didn’t survive.
I feel for the family, for the Dad, for my daughter. What a tragedy, no good comes from guns.
No matter how hard you try to control their worlds, you can’t control fate. When my kids were small, I remember calling the homes of children they wanted to visit to see if the parents had guns in the house before I’d let them hang. Overly cautious, maybe, but I was more comfortable dropping them off. Most of the time, I simply invited their friends to hang at our house.
But when they’re adults, they are on their own and you can only hope, wish, pray that each day will be normal and they’ll grow to a ripe old age.
I now know what my mom felt each time I left the house without telling her where I was going and when I’d be home. And when they’re away at college, that feeling grows to include “I wonder if they’re home safe.” Thank goodness for texting. I secretly love when my daughter texts me to wake her up at 6 or 8 in the morning, cause I know she’s in her bed, safe. It brings me back to the time when I tucked her him, sang her a song, and kissed her goodnight.
I feel for the family, for the Dad, for my daughter; what a tragedy.