Life is the sum of all the choices we make. Some are good, some aren't and there are few do-overs. But each choice is a chance...and nothing ventured, nothing gained. And so we move on, hopefully richer for the choices we made, for the chances we took. But wiser nonetheless.
My story is a little different. I wasn't raised with guns and really didn't have much of an interest in them. Ten years ago my father in law, a vet from the Battle of the Bulge, passed away and left me his old 22 rifle and an old shotgun. And they stayed in storage until this past summer.
Out of curiosity more an anything I unpack them both. The shotgun was an old double barrel 12 gauge Stevens model, probably made around 1911. It was not a valuable piece and, as it turned out, had a split in the right barrel. Not safe to shoot but perfectly at home hanging above the fireplace.
The other was an old Mossberg 22 trainer, WW II era. Figuring, what the hell, I took it out for an hour of shooting. Now this rifle hadn't been fired in 60 years. And it shot like a champ. I picked up just a couple of pieces - an aperture for the original Lyman sights and a 14 round magazine - and smiled every time it went bang.
Then I convinced my wife she had to come with me to shoot her daddy's rifle. Darlin, it's like shooting history...and it was your father's rifle. She was kind enough to humor me and it didn't hurt that her first shot from 50 yds off the bench was a bullseye. (I had already - and joyfully - zeroed the Lyman from that distance.)
She smiled broadly with her achievement and the memories of her dad. She must have burned thru 100 rounds that afternoon. Our kids live far away but I can't wait to get them out to shoot their grandfather's rifle.
My regret? That I waited so long. The memories I have of the old man are wonderful ones and they all rush back when I handles these guns.
But I wish I had been interested enough at the time to ask him about them, particularly the old Stevens. I'm sure he would have had hunting stories...about his dad, his brother, and growing up in west Texas. Probably shot as many snakes as birds.
A regret, yes. A lost opportunity, for sure. But each time I pick up those old guns we remember him and cherish the memories.