I saw the wife of an old friend of my dad today.

She had an NRA wallet that my dad had, but never used, because he had issues with the NRA's stance on gun safety.

His sister was shot accidentally by a child when she was 16.

And ironing a dress to go on a date.

My dad was fanatical about gun safety.

But the wallet made me think of Dad, before I realized who she was...

I hadn't seen her in years.

She recognized me immediately, called me by name, and told me who she was.

I teared up.

So many happy memories.

She said, "You know, he died." 

Referring to her husband.

"I heard." I said.

We had a moment in the store where we were both transported to the past...

To happier times.

When my dad was sick.

When he was dying.

When only one friend still came to visit him...

One day, when I was there alone with him.

He asked me to go upstairs and get his pistol.

And bullets...

And to leave him there alone.

It hurt me almost as much as his death...

To tell him no.

But, I was 27, and still very much needed my dad.

He was dead by April.