My thoughts and prayers go out to the people of the Permian Basin up in Midland-Odessa. You did not deserve to go through this. WE, as a state, did not deserve to go through this crap again.
But all the “rah rah rah Imma get a gun and a license to concealed carry” isn’t going to make things better. Because you are most likely (ok, 99% probability here) not qualified to render judgement or deal out death on the person who is shooting up the (insert place here).
I cannot speak for my husband, but I know that I personally will not ever own a gun. Period. I grew up around gun culture and I know how to be safe with a gun. I had family members that would shoot anything that didn’t run away fast enough and serve it up for dinner. (Deer and duck are delicious. Possum and squirrel? Not so much.) I respect anyone who hunts or shoots guns for the fun of it. If you want to keep a gun in your house because you feel safer that way, then go ahead. I can’t and won’t stop you. But having a gun in the house would actually make me feel LESS safe, rather than more. Because I know myself and my husband well enough to know that if there were a burglary or a B&E, we might very well end up getting shot with the gun we bought to protect ourselves with. Or shot because we have a gun but so does the person breaking into our home to rob us and they’re better with theirs than we are with ours.
I am not going to live scared. I said it after Columbine. I said it after 9/11, when we boarded a plane to Florida just a few months after it happened. I said it after Colorado. I’ve said it after pretty much every school shooting that’s ever happened in the last decade. Living scared is no way to live your life, period. (Although I am terrified to drive on the freeway or highway because people around here drive like their ass is on fire ALL the time.)
I am not afraid of death. It is one of the incontrovertible truths of life (along with aging, getting sick and being responsible both to and for your own actions/thoughts). We all are going to die..tomorrow, next week, next year, who knows. We cannot know the time and place and manner. It’s just not possible (unless you’re psychic and then…maybe). I know that eventually, my body (which is already effed up in many ways) will slow down and eventually stop. I’m OK with that. It’s SUPPOSED to happen like that. I am supposed to take care of my body (which I try to do) but when it’s time, it’s just TIME. And I will be ready to go gentle (or maybe not so much, IDK) into that good night. Because I will have lived a long (hopefully), rather full and interesting (well, somewhat) life.
And if my husband doesn’t play “Bright Side of Life” at my party (I don’t want a funeral. Funerals kind of suck. I want a frigging PARTY. New Orleans jazz band doing a parade and all. ) I will come back and haunt his ass forever.