Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?
When I was a preteen, I was given a rifle (yep, THAT kind of family morals). And I spent a great deal of time refinishing its walnut or ash stock. It was Finish surplus that my dad purchased. 2 of them. My brother Eric wasn’t interested in his… but mine? I serviced it. Cleaned it. Hell, I was trusted with a small amount of live ammunition with it. When I moved out and lived with my mum, it was kept with my dad.
Later, during my attempts at reconciliation with my dad, I asked about it. “Oh, I sold it”. Fucker. In his estate, I discovered that it still exists (or at least 1 of the 2 Huskivarna [sp?] military surplus). Rein-dad lashed out at me with lies and attempts to hurt my feelings…. It worked. Family melodrama. That firearm remains in a gun safe in someone elses’ household.
I can manage my resentment, jealousy, anger, and desire with what my friend GP reminded me: (i) WW2 firearms are antiques; (ii) their trigger controls are military-grade yes… but they’re NOT match-grade; (iii) metal fatigue IS a real danger ((((assembled 1941-45 so ~80 years old))))), can I see hairline cracks? Are the riflings true? Wood stock has dried out and it will be brittle; and, (iv) its original iron sights are not Lee-Enfield nor M1-Garand quality. MY REALITY: I can buy a modern Finish-made firearm using 21st century metallurgy and optics.
Sako Grizzly. https://www.sako.global/rifle/sako-90-grizzly using a traditional .308 Winchester or go modern with 6.5 mm Creemore. And of course I’d like to reload my own ammunition (not to save money, but to tweak tweak fiddle fuss fuss). And a red-dot and scope optics.
Oh, and 1 shotgun. Not tactical. Break-action. A resin stock will be okay.
What was I incredibly attached to: a (deadly) trinket that reminded me of the happy times between Rein-dad and me. I had to learn that nothing given to me by my dad was free-title. It was a loan that could be revoked at Rein’s pleasure. I won’t have closure, or rather, it won’t meet my expectations. On good days, I can process that and find peace. And on bad days? Fuck you dad-Rein. May you be utterly forgotten, as you wished.
BCB&B, neemtree, bdb, and blog 