A large American flag hangs at half mast underneath a bright, full moon. The stories and videos from Sunday night’s massacre come to mind, though they’ve never really left. I keep checking the news, wanting an explanation, a motive, for such a violent and vicious act. No explanation could ever truly explain, though.
My social media feed is full of pictures of guns and debates surrounding the legislation of them. With every picture and every image declaring the benefit of guns, I unconsciously catch my breath. While my husband owns guns, I do not like them.
As a seven or eight year old child, I would sneak my father’s pistol out of his chest of drawers and play with it. As a child, that same gun was used in an incident that traumatized me.
I heard today that the Las Vegas shooter legally purchased 33 guns within the last year. What reasonable person needs to purchase 33 guns in a year’s time?
My daughter asks me if she can attend a concert this weekend, and my first response is fear.
We are a gun-crazed nation, and something must be done about it.
