Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a rough time sleeping last night. All day I was brooding over the rush during the pandemic to buy guns and the almost daily mass shootings in this country. You can be in church, getting groceries, walking in a park, buying shoes for your kids, and someone armed like a battleground soldier swoops in with intent to kill. It doesn't matter the reasons, none of them make much sense anyway. I've supported gun control for many years, and so have a majority of Americans, but we are less protected than ever. It's like a relentless will to selfdestruct. There is no country more dangerous to visit than our own. When I told my husband how depressed I was he reminded me that tomorrow is the first anniversary of our daughter's death. I'm taking it hard. I don't accept it, I can't really believe it, and the loss just feels too great to bear. She had so much more to do: raise her daughter, write more books, paint, travel, scuba dive, sing, dance, play the drums, laugh and eat with friends, fuss over her nephews. It's as if a brilliant star became a shooting star and left the sky darker and us in shadow. It's unacceptable.