Last week, I shot a gun for the first time. Two days after I shot for the first time I also took a ladies’ handgun class, and I shot a gun again. For any of you who knew my dad, this may come as a complete surprise. My dad was a big outdoorsman – loved to hunt, fish, and shoot guns. It almost seems unlikely that I would have gone this long before having this type of experience because of him.
Up until my dad died, I just always assumed that it would be him who would be there the first time I shot a gun. I didn’t know when that day would be, but I knew that when I decided to give it a try he would have been super excited to show me how. Unfortunately, that day never came, and while I don’t regret it, it has probably been the biggest thing that has still haunted me about my dad’s death. Sadly enough, a gun was involved in his passing, so that made it all the more traumatic to think about shooting one.
I won’t go into all the details of why this was so hard for me, but I listed some of the general reasons above. Grief can be a funny thing – there are some things about a person that you can let go of really quickly, and there are some things that take a long time to deal with. Shooting has definitely been an activity that has been scary and sad and terrifying and many other things since my dad’s passing. It has been almost five years, and up until now I couldn’t hardly imagine dealing with it. There are many factors that have led to me giving it a try, but the biggest one was having a child and having someone I wanted to be able to defend if need be. Never underestimate the power of a mother and how she will do anything to protect her child.
Now that I have taken that first shot, I feel a little lighter. I found another way to move on without my dad here in the physical world. I also know that my dad, wherever he is, is proud of me.