Over the weekend I learned that my son has been using his grandfather's rifle for target practice. I am very happy with that knowledge. My dad died 4 years ago, he knew, as we all did, that his time was limited, so before he left us he gave away his prized possessions.
Proudly he gave me his Good Citizenship Medal that he received in the 4th grade. He gave my grandfather's Wedgwood ring to my brother David, his handmade cribbage set to my brother Matthew, his 22 rifle to my son, and to my daughter his stuffed dog that he had since babyhood. All prized possessions. All priceless.
The rifle has special significance because it is the same rifle I used for target practice with my dad. I remember trudging across the cornfields of our cousins farm, in the fall after all the cornstalks were cut down, to the edge of the river, to the spot where all the extended family went for target practice. I remember the kick from it, and the reminders from my father to always, always always carry the gun pointed down and never ever loaded.
It is the same rifle my brother David used when he started to go on hunting trips with our dad, and the same rifle Matthew refused to handle. It is the rifle my crazy sister took from the house to chase after the mean boys in the neighborhood with. Which I might add ended with a blistering belt spanking from our father.
Before my father had to be attached to an oxygen tank, he used to take my son to his gun club and teach Greg the basics of shooting, and drill into him the importance of gun safety. At that time my dad had a small collection of guns, 3 handguns, several rifles, a couple of shotguns and he wanted to make sure that curiosity would not cause an accident with the guns. So he introduced his grandchildren, 3 at that time, at an early age to guns. Curiosity factor eliminated.
Greg learned to shoot when he was 6 or 7. I never thought much about it, it was part of what my dad did, who he was. I was happy that they found common ground and spent time together.
My son has those memories too. I am happy to know Greg takes care of and uses my dad's gun.
Instant Pot Christmas Roast
8 years ago
4 comments:
The generational bond of using something that is passed on to you almost can't be described. Especially if it is something that can still be used in its original function, like the .22. It’s like firing the gun is a reminder each time of its original owner, as something more than a generational heirloom. Family is important. I like reading stories like this. Your Dad lives on.
Blake
That is a beautiful post Cheer. Things that are passed down through generations are important.
People have such strong negative feelings about guns. I've never understood it because my grandparents were hunters so guns were part of my family.
I never learned to handle a gun, so I respect them and never touch them. My brother hunted with my grandpa and dad, and his son shot targets at my parents house.
My mom hunted, could shoot, and had a gun for protection. When she died my brother added it to his collection handed down from my grandparents.
When we had the garage sale this winter my brother sold a bunch of them. A couple of cowboy looking dudes came by and asked if there were any guns. My brother hadn't intended to sell them... but took the opportunity to get a few bucks for them instead of just storing them. (He knew what they were worth - and only got rid of certain ones)
My kids won't ever have the gun experience that my father, mother, and brother had. Its great that your son had the connection to your dad.
My father taught my brothers and I to handle guns and to shoot them. I think it gave us a respect for firearms, and made them so they're not forbidden fruit. I think that if you're trained to handle them properly and to respect them and the possible destructive power they have, you're much less likely to treat them cavilierly.
Post a Comment