Cyrano
12-19-2009, 11:50 PM
My son just gave me the nicest Christmas present I can remember.
A little background first: My father died last year at the age of 94. He had been a federal law enforcement officer since years before I was born. The one
thing that I had asked him for was his service revolver that he carried for decades. He taught me how to shoot with that pistol, starting at age five.
(I was fascinated with his gun as a toddler, so he thought he would let me fire it once when I was five so I'd be afraid to touch it.....fat chance! By age seven I was out-scoring him at the range!)
Anyhow, when Dad passed, his pistol was nowhere to be found. There had been more than one burglary at my parent's house, and I figured there was no chance of ever finding it.
Tonight, my son handed me a box, and told me not to wait for Christmas to open it. Inside the box was a presentation case with an engraved plaque with
Dad's name, agency, and service dates, and of course, the long=lost pistol.
Steve even had the sense NOT to have it re-blued, and left it as it was, well-used.
A gun may seem a silly thing to get sentimental about, but love of shooting was one of the few things that my father and I had in common.
I have NO idea how Steve was able to keep this a secret for so long, but when he handed it to me, I was without words.
A little background first: My father died last year at the age of 94. He had been a federal law enforcement officer since years before I was born. The one
thing that I had asked him for was his service revolver that he carried for decades. He taught me how to shoot with that pistol, starting at age five.
(I was fascinated with his gun as a toddler, so he thought he would let me fire it once when I was five so I'd be afraid to touch it.....fat chance! By age seven I was out-scoring him at the range!)
Anyhow, when Dad passed, his pistol was nowhere to be found. There had been more than one burglary at my parent's house, and I figured there was no chance of ever finding it.
Tonight, my son handed me a box, and told me not to wait for Christmas to open it. Inside the box was a presentation case with an engraved plaque with
Dad's name, agency, and service dates, and of course, the long=lost pistol.
Steve even had the sense NOT to have it re-blued, and left it as it was, well-used.
A gun may seem a silly thing to get sentimental about, but love of shooting was one of the few things that my father and I had in common.
I have NO idea how Steve was able to keep this a secret for so long, but when he handed it to me, I was without words.