A prayer for the souls of the departed

I had been planning to tell a hilarious story this week about a time I went a little nuts in 4^th grade. However, in light of the events that occurred in Connecticut on Friday, I have decided to postpone this story. It doesn’t seem appropriate at the moment.
 

That whole day was just sour for me. I spent Friday just waiting for my little sisters to get back home so I could give them each a big hug. Days like this aren’t easy for parents, and they aren’t easy for big brothers.

I’ve always disliked guns. Period. Don’t like them. Have never had a need for them. I don’t enjoy killing animals for sport or food – I can get all the food I want at the local Safeway, where it’s already dead, prepackaged, chemically altered, and everything (although I am rather fond of fishing). Despite the scary neighborhood I once lived in, the idea of a gun in my household frightens me way more than any of my neighbors once did.

After Friday’s shooting, I couldn’t even build up the familiar anger about our lack of gun control that strikes me during moments like this. I just felt sadness. Sadness for the young lives lost, and sadness because I expect absolutely zero change in policy.

I understand that other people do like guns. They make for good sport, they are useful for hunting food, and offer a measure of safety for the individual gun owner…at the expense of others. So this is why I’m willing to compromise. Compromise is how democracy is supposed to work. 

I don’t expect compromise these days.

This data collected by The Washington Post pretty much covers anything else I’d have to say on the topic. It’s very illuminating and upsetting.

The Constitution allows for a “well regulated militia.” Tell me, what about Friday’s shooting seems “well regulated” to you?

I promise next week’s post will be lighthearted. Until then, hug your loved ones close and let them know how you feel. And offer up a prayer for the souls of the departed.