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Fight Like My Mother

Updated: May 20


My Ma and Me... I was 2

Being the daughter of a Law Enforcement Officer, you hear some pretty wild stories. Being a rebellious and headstrong daughter of a Law Enforcement Officer, sometimes you're part of those pretty wild stories. LOL!


(We'll leave those for another blog post, later... down the road somewhere.)


Not only did I start shooting at a young age, but I'm also a natural blonde!

Of course, if you haven't read any of my prior posts, I'm sure you can tell from me being a Cop's Kid, it's obvious that my father taught me about guns, and how to shoot. He had me shooting rather early in life, too.


Around the age of 4 years old, I was a "Little Daisy," showing off my Daisy BB Gun to family and friends all over. It was unloaded about 99.9% of the time and I was never allowed to handle it without an adult nearby, with a knowledge on firearms. Handling them at 4 was a means to a lifelong lesson and appreciation for GUNS.


One of my earliest memories of my firearms training with Dad, was him taking me outside at the age of 6 or so, and he'd put about 10 BBs in the gun. Then he'd set up a leaf or an old playing card on a level surface, and he'd make me stand about 5 to 10 feet away, have me aim, shoot, then switch shoulders (where the butt of the gun rests- to switch from right handed/ left handed shooting). After a while, once I was hitting my targets from both aim stances, he'd put 10 more BBs in the chamber and have me stand 15 feet away from new targets he'd set up. The cycle continued until I was hitting my targets at the max distance for a little ol BB gun (about 30-35 feet away).


I can also remember asking my Dad, "Why just 10 BBs at a time?" He told me that was to teach me to be restrictive with my ammo. "When you shoot... make it count," he'd say. Depending on what I hit or missed, he'd make a note and we'd go home. If I made my target 10x, he'd put 10 more BBs in the chamber and move me back to a new aiming distance.


Granted, I have many fond memories of my dad teaching me the life lessons a father passes along to his kids, but one of those lessons in particular, involving my Ma, stands out the most.


When asking my Ma (my mom- I've never called her "Mom" or "Mama" or "Mommy"), how she feels about Gun Control, she scoffs and laughs. A well versed woman who's cultured, talented, well educated, independent, genuine... she's not paying me to say these things, so I'll stop there (LOL! I get my humor from my Ma as well)... my Ma probably instilled in me the biggest lesson on "Gun Control" that I've ever had in my 29 + years of living, and she doesn't even know it.


My Dad dubbed this story,

”Annie Oakley and the O-K Corral."

Lol!


My Ma's engagement pic

My Ma is a city girl. She was raised in a mill area, surrounded by people and businesses. My Grandfather, being former US Navy, of course taught my Ma and her older brother how to shoot, using a BB gun. As my Ma recalls, they'd take targets and hang them on the clothesline in the backyard and shoot for fun off of their back porch steps.


In time, of course, she met my father, the oldest child/ son of poor farmers. Time went on, they got hitched and ended up moving into a little trailer on my father's family farm. My Ma said that it was a huge difference than what she was used to, but it taught her a lot and helped mold her into the woman she is today. (Which explains why she was so adamant about us kids working on the farm when we were being a pain. Hmmm...) She learned a lot from my Granny and Papa, who taught her about planting, harvesting, cooking, etc... The Fundamentals of Life.


She was also taught how to shoot, track and hunt by my Dad, Papa and Uncle. City Girl turned Farm Girl by marriage. It’s a funny thought, especially if you ever meet my Ma. “Green Acres!” Lol!


The late 70s brought the birth of my older brother, then the early 80s provided my glorious entrance into this world. About 2 months before I was born, my Ma and Dad had built themselves a home on the other side of our family farm. My Dad was a Patrol Officer for our local Police Department, to which he acquired a respected reputation during his years on the force.


In his earlier days as a “Beat Cop,” he had to deal directly with many of the stereotypes the public puts on LEOs. On one occasion, a shift mate of his pulled over a guy for speeding and wrote him a ticket. The speed demon was not happy at all and ended up waiting outside of the P.D. for his chance to confront an officer. He ended up seeing my Dad, and followed him 20 minutes out of the city, to our family home, to see if Daddy would trash the ticket for him.


My older brother and myself... We are pretty gangsta.

My brother was around 4 years old and I was only a few months or so into my life. My Ma was tending to us, when she heard my Dad pull up. Looking out the window to be sure (example of awareness), she noticed the angry speed demon pull into our driveway as Daddy was getting out of his car. The man started to become vulgar and loud, so my Ma Took Action. She went to the gun cabinet, retrieved her .410 Lever Action Single Barrel Shotgun and took aim at the man who followed my Dad home. She stood in a living room window, sight locked on the man, and waited till he left.


Fortunately, no one was hurt that day, but as a Mom, myself, now... I can’t help but think about the emotions and fear that went through my Ma in that moment. Just walking 20 feet from our front door, to the car, with my toddler’s hand in mine, my brain goes a million miles an hour, as I analyze our short stroll- thinking about ALL the things that can happen within those 20 feet.


”We live off a main road! What if he lets go of my hand? He’s TWO! What if someone is hiding in the bushes between our’s and our neighbor‘s house? We live in a classy, country club neighborhood... but, that doesn’t eliminate us from the odds of “What Ifs!‘”


Ma had a 4 year old and a few months old ME, depending on her to protect them. Granted, my Dad being a Cop- of course he had a sidearm, but THAT WAS HER HUSBAND! My Ma was ready to defend those that she loved, against someone who potentially wanted to tear that away from her. I‘ve asked her once if she would’ve regretted pulling the trigger if the situation called for it. Her response, “You don’t regret love.”


Over the course of the last few weeks, I’ve had the opportunity to speak to some absolutely, AMAZING & OUTSTANDING Women/ Moms, who believe in a life of freedom and liberty. I plan on reaching out to many more, but considering May is not only the month where we celebrate Mothers, but Nurses and Law Enforcement as well, I figured it was just right to dedicate this one to my Ma (since she was also a nurse... Lol!). It’s also my birthday month, so I’m recounting some of my own life for you all. I’m a blessing and special... my Ma says so! Lol!


Upon asking Ma how she feels about her 2nd Amendment Right, she didn’t take long to answer.

(Please note: we are a very silly family)


Me: Why do you believe in the 2nd Amendment and the right to own a firearm?


Ma: For the mere purpose of ensuring my freedom and protecting loved ones against those who intend to do harm. Good people need leverage against bad people... especially chubby women.


Me: Lol! Ok.

As a mom... what advice would you give us kids if we were coming up (again) on the importance of being educated about firearms?


Ma: Firearms can be like a cup of unlabeled water; either good or bad. It’s determined by the heart of its owner. To do harm or to disarm is sometimes made in a split second decision. Be prepared to live with a lifelong decision or a memory of what could have been.


Although I‘ve asked her these questions already knowing the answers- because they were instilled in my siblings and I, early on in our lives, and almost DAILY, I love that I am able to pass those words along as if they were the first time I’ve heard them. Firearms are a tool. We‘ve covered that in other blog posts... or in discussions with Anti Gun Folks, but looking at firearms like a cup of water, it really sets the narrative.


A cup of water... I’m actually more afraid of water than I am a gun. Isn’t that something? (I’ll share a kayaking adventure with my hubs, with y’all at some point.) Water, in itself, can either sustain life or take it away- doesn’t matter the amount, just the intention. The concept... or rather how its used.. is TOTALLY UP TO THE PERSON WHO HANDLES IT. Something that we must remember in our mission to gain knowledge and to educate others on their RIGHT To Bear Arms, is that they MUST be prepared to face the consequences that come from using a gun.


It’s taken me many years to come to grips with the fact that “I am my Ma.” We butt heads like no one else, but overall, I am so blessed to be able to call her “My Ma,” and the fact that she has always been #OneToughMother.



My Ma and my son, the day he was born.

What‘s even better is that MY son, has One Tough Gigi looking out for him when I’m not around.


”You don’t regret love.”


Thanks Ma! ❤



#ShallNotBeInfringed

I Fight Like My Ma!




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