I don’t own a gun, never have, never will. Its my choice. My protection at home is an ax handle. Guess we know who will win a battle if an armed person ever enters my home! With that said, I don’t claim to have any answers. I don’t know any statistics. I never heard of any of the guns used in last weeks shooting. I don’t know how many guns are owned by citizens. I don’t follow politics. I don’t know a single gun law or the steps to purchase a gun. What I do know, is I have fears.
I fear driving down the interstate and inadvertently pulling in front of someone and 3 miles down the road he pulls aside me and shoots. I won’t see my kids grow up. My kids won’t ever see me. God forbid the last thing I see in my life is a sticker that says something about pry my cold hands from my weapon. How about pry my dead body slumped over my steering wheel!
I fear stopping for a package of M & M’s at 7-11. While I search the endless isle of candy, a robber walks in and demands money from the cashier and shots are fired I get hit. No M & M’s for me tonight! Pry my cold dead body off the cheaply tiled 7-11 floor.
I fear the kid who is mad at me at work cause someone over the phone told him he could rent a U-Haul truck with cash. When I tell him he can but it a $100 deposit instead of just the actual amount, he gives me and U-Haul some choices words and storms out. I wait anxiously to see if he comes back not the more money but to release his frustration with the company I represent with his gun and my last rental is a one way to heaven. Pry my cold dead body off the concrete floor at my U-Haul store.
I fear returning home after a quick trip to the store and inside I meet Mr. Burglar with a pillow case stuffed with my kids X-Box, video games and part of my dvd collection. He looks like Santa except he doesn’t want to go back to jail so he pulls out his Get Out of Jail card, which is in the form of a nice big gun and whamo. Pry my cold dead body off the freshly vacuumed carpeting. Oh, please clean the blood stains so my family isn’t constantly reminded of my horror daily.
I fear my son going to a party with friends of his school, only to have people from a rival school arrive at the party. A fight breaks out, a gun is pulled and my son who is in the corner talking to his girlfriend is innocently shot. This has happened here in Albuquerque a few years back involving the school my son attends and their rival.
I fear exactly what happened in the schools in Colorado or Connecticut. Cause I don’t want to bury a kid. All of my kids are currently in school. The only time I want them out of school is with a diploma in their hand.
These are my real fears. Obviously I have never been shot. I have been robbed at gunpoint. I did come home after a trip to the grocery store and find the front door open and all my electronics along with a cold 12 pack of coke stolen and my house ransacked. Damn them , I didn’t buy any coke on that trip to the store! I fear a person with a gun in his hand who is not responsible enough to have said gun. I fear missing out on a full life with my kids. Sure I could leave this earth with the likes cancer, ALS or any number of diseases. That could take me or my kids away prematurely. With disease, it is God’s decision to take me or them, not someone else deciding its my time to go. Or even worse, my child’s time to go. Am I way off base. To some maybe I am. But I have fears. And those are mine. You can’t pry them from me.
Till we meet again. Good day.
Mind of Shoo