This Has Nothing to Do With Retirement
I'm going to begin with a disclosure that at least some of you are familiar with. Almost 25 years ago, our family and our framily, the Smiths, were in the Drake Diner in Des Moines when it was robbed and two people brutally murdered. One of the bullet casings bounced off Voldemort's foot (see previous blog regarding Voldemort). The oldest children were called to testify in court. The memories can still cause my blood to run cold and my heart to beat faster than it should. Every mass shooting invokes the memory of being under the table at the Diner, holding our youngests close. The oldest children were seated at a booth directly across from the register where the murders took place. I remember the first shot sounded something like a wait staff had dropped a platter of glasses. Or maybe a light bulb had exploded. The restaurant went silent. My eyes locked with Jeanie's, sitting across the booth from me. Slowly we sank to the fl...