One weekend I tagged along with my parents as they met up with a few of my fathers co-workers. This wasn’t my typical preference for weekend fun, but it was quite enjoyable witnessing my parents take a break and simply relax. As the conversation buoyed between football, cruises and how much everyone despised their job, one particular subject peaked my interest –owning a gun.
I’ve always been timid with guns. My sister, on the other hand, took after my father and frequented gun ranges with such bravado. As I began voicing my views on the multiple dangers in owning them, the ladies at the table showed no reservation in preaching the importance of protecting myself, especially living alone. As the conversation continued and the night rolled on, I left the gathering embracing an open mind about owning a gun.
All that changed in an instance when I received a distributing call from my sister barely three days after the outing. In a very bothered manner she explained that a mutual childhood friend of ours was faced with a horrific outcome of careless gun use. Apparently her father was cleaning the household gun and he failed to check the safety and mistakenly shot himself in the stomach. Within moments his life escaped him as a pool of blood encased his body. In a blink of an eye he lay dead on the tile floor of his home.
Learning this information rocked my body to the core. I understand that the society we live in is riddled with crime and people view guns as a means to protect one’s family. However, the act of owning a gun presents its own dangers. Carelessness kills. It’s moments like this that reaffirm my apprehensions of owning a gun. My heart goes out to the family who probably in this moment is grieving the loss of a great man. The lesson learned in this situation is if you own a gun, respect the gun and always be cautious in handling them.