Tragedy at My Grocery Store

     The mass killing at King Soopers this week brought back a flood of memories because that’s where I shopped when Duane and I were first married. The store was close enough to our townhouse that I could walk there and carry my bags home. It’s right by the laundromat where I washed clothes each week, and it’s just across the street from the library where I checked out books.
     That neighborhood in the Rocky Mountains foothills continued to draw us even after our three girls were born and we relocated a few miles away. We found a pediatric dentist just up the hill from King Soopers, so after checkups we’d stop off to buy milk and eggs. A smiling checker dug pennies out of her pocket and handed one to each girl to ride the mechanical horse - the cheapest entertainment in town.
     One day while the girls and I were inside the store, a rainstorm moved across the Rockies, pelting the roof with torrents. No problem. We sheltered inside until it slowed to a drizzle, then we dashed through puddles to the car.
     What memories a store evokes when it anchors a neighborhood. What a tragedy today, because the death of ten souls is more than a statistic. It’s a wound. This is our store - all of us. We all have a King Soopers. So today I weep like the rain that pummeled the roof when we sheltered there from the storms of life.
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​     Photo: screenshot, CBS Channel 4/Denver. Please share. previous thoughts are at TrishHermanson.com.