After Dan’s suicide, our local police department held his gun for one year (something about it being standard procedure in a crime) Once the year was up, it was mine to do with what I wanted. (See also: awkward phone conversations with just about anyone)
I was jumping around like a maniac on the stockbroker’s floor screaming “Sell. Sell. Sell.” Fortunately and rather quickly, I had a buyer who paid an honest value and in cash. For the sake of argument and for conversation purposes, let’s say I got $700 for it. (This is important later on)
But the money felt wrong. Dirty. It didn’t sit with me well that I sold the object that was used to kill my late husband. So I must use it for good. That would make it better, in a sense.
About this time that I was making a list of all the humanitarian things I could,do, was the same time I got nuzzled about a horse.
He would be free to me. Kind of a loaner if it didn’t work out….one of those things.
I did some preliminary figures and then called to let my “not-so-good-with-1000lb surprises” husband that we were getting a horse.
He was all “what the what….do you know how much it will cost to get fencing for him…blah-blah”
I did tell him I knew where the money would come from and I’m sure you know now too…I even had like $30 left.
His suicide was an act of such ugliness that I never thought I’d find beauty especially in that gun.
But everyday I look out my back window at my stallion grazing or racing the dogs, I see the beauty.
Life send us some ugly things. Things we didn’t want and it’s just so unfair (go ahead…stomp your foot with me) I could’ve stomped my foot for all eternity and it would not have taken away that horrific moment when he chose to end his life.
But I have living to do and I’m going to choose to find every moment of beauty I can grab back from the shadows.