Grandpa's Gun

My father was'nt the greatest father in the world. But he was my father and I loved him and miss him. I have some really good memories of him. He was a hard worker and worked all the time. Times spent with him were rare. The times I spent with him were very special to me since I had to share him with three brothers and two sisters.

As a child he would play ball or horseshoes with us. My favorite time spent with him was target practice. We would go out in the backyard and shoot at targets he had made. I could shoot just as good as my brothers.

My father had a gun that was his father's it was said to be over 100 years old. My father and oldest brother were the only two that were allowed to shoot it. I used to beg and plea to shoot that gun. I was so facinated by it.

One day my father gave in and let me, on condition that I never ask again. I readily agreed. I was about 80 lbs back then a weak little girl and I felt big holding that gun in my hand. I aimed at the target and then fired. The next thing I knew I was on the ground, my shoulder was killing me. My brother was laughing at me and my father was asking if I was okay.

I was not okay and I never again asked to shoot that gun. It is still in the family and has'nt been fired in probaly twenty years. But it is still a beautiful gun that I love to gaze at from afar.