Make Sense

I am glad I live in New York City where you are not allowed to have a gun unless you have a special license. Although maybe that makes no difference. Across the country, there must be more checks on guns. It is out of control. Good God.

When I was in Dublin, I chatted with a guy at a bar. He was the night manager of a small hotel and he told me about how he missed his estranged daughter. And we talked about other things. And when he found out I was from New York, he told me that he used to want to visit the states, especially New York. But no more.

“I might get killed by random gun fire if I go to the U.S.” he said. Because apparently, the U.S. now has a horrible international reputation as a lawless, gun-toting country.
“I’d rather go to China,” the Dubliner told me. “Safer.”

“No, no,” I assured him. “New York City is safe. It’s only in a few places where they allow guns. And only a few places where these gun massacres occur. Not New York. Not big cities.” I, of course, was wrong. Not just today. But other days.

I tried to call the NRA just now. The number was busy.

As a mother, I feel I have the right to call and tell them, please, please, please, advocate for safer laws to protect innocent people. Use your lobbying money to help get the government to keep people safe. No more semiautomatic guns.

Let’s make sure all people who just want to experience the happy community vibe of a country music concert or a Miami dance club can enjoy these experiences without worrying that they will die.

I am a member of the Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America, founded by Shannon Watts, a fellow mother and a real hero. I connected to this group to know that I am not alone.

I also turned to my beloved United Methodist Women. Recently, I’ve been working on a project and had to get a quote from Bishop Oliveto, who is another hero of mine. Here were her words after the Colorado Springs horrific shooting:

These moments, when we feel deeply the loss and see clearly that such loss could have been prevented, place us on  the sacred ground upon which our commitment to heal the brokenness within our community rests. It is imperative that as we grieve we find ways to move through it in ways that empower us.

How do we grieve? How do we attempt to heal our brokenness? Who are your heroes? How are you making a difference? To whom do you turn to make sense of the world?

I don’t know why but I love seeing these canoes on the bridle path every day I walk or bike through Central Park.
The Guggenheim. The dappled Central Park light, so pretty.

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