Today is my son Jordan's 26th birthday. This is one of the hardest days of the year.
This year, I wrote Jordan a letter:
Happy birthday, Jordan. How I wish you were still here to celebrate with us. I know you are with me, watching over me every day.. (1/x)
...but I would give anything just to hug you and hear your voice once more.
I often think about where we would be and what we would be doing if you hadn’t been taken from us far too soon — before you even entered adulthood. (2/x)
What I’m left with are your memories and imaginations of what could be.
You were just 85 days short of your 18th birthday – right on the verge of finally getting the right to vote. I know you understood how sacred that right was. (3/x)
President @BarackObama had just been re-elected, and you had such hope that you’d get the chance to vote for someone who looked like you and me one day, too.
I always had such big dreams for you. I just knew you would be the one to fight for change in our community. (4/x)
I think a lot about that as I do this work. But if you were still here, it probably would be you. No, I don’t think you’d have run for office (yet!). But you would be working to change what’s broken in our country. (5/x)
Maybe you could’ve been an organizer right here in Georgia working to turn our state blue for President @JoeBiden and Vice President @KamalaHarris. You had that fight and drive in you. (6/x)
And I have no doubt you would have extended that same drive to elect Senators @Ossoff and @ReverendWarnock too.
I wish you could have experienced that. But, the laws you could have worked to change failed us long before you were given the chance to save others. (7/x)
So, I do this work for you now, to honor your legacy and make sure that young people like you have a bright future and a chance to thrive. (8/x)
To fix the laws that have created this gun violence epidemic, to confront systemic racism, to address the climate crisis, and all that ails America.
You give me the strength every day to keep fighting and pushing for change. (9/x)
I know it has taken far too long, and now, the crises we face are compounding and larger than ever. But, I know God has a higher purpose for us, and I have faith that our moment for change is almost here. (10/x)
I’ll see you again one day, when the time is right. I’m going to expect lots of hugs and kisses then, okay? Thank you for being my rock and my best friend in this fight. I love you so much.
Forever your mom,
Lucy (11/11)
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Today marks 8 years since my son Jordan was stolen from me.
Every year, I write a letter to my son. Read below - and remember there are still thousands of families in this country being torn apart every single day from gun violence.
To Jordan:
I miss you. It’s been eight years since I got to hug and kiss you.
I had no way to know that the last time I hugged you would be the last time I embraced you in this life.
You didn’t deserve to die that way, but our laws failed you, failed us and countless families like ours. I know the man who killed you was not raised the way I raised you.
But I decided not to be silent — to challenge the laws that failed us.
This is not an easy Mother's Day. These are two pictures of two mothers who had their sons #JordanDavis and #AhmaudArbery ripped away suddenly because of gun violence.
(1/x)
You know my story. You know my son was killed in 2012 by a man who shot 10 rounds at him because he and his friends were playing music in their car. A man unloaded a clip on my son and took his life. So as you can imagine, Mother’s Day is not a normal day for me.
(2/x)
This week has been an extraordinary time for our gun safety movement here in Georgia and nationwide, with extra attention on the vicious murder of Ahmaud Arbery in Brunswick, GA. Attention that was only paid because a viral video of the shooting was released.
Today is my son Jordan’s 25th birthday. I often think about what I would say to him if he were still here with us.
This year, I wanted to share a message that I wrote to Jordan on what would have been his 25th birthday.
Dear Jordan,
Eight years ago, you were stolen from me. The last conversation we had seemed so normal. You told me how much you had enjoyed Thanksgiving, and that you loved being able to see your friends.
I had no idea that would be the last time I heard your voice.
I never got to kiss you goodbye. I never got to give you one final hug. We never celebrated your 18th or 21st birthday because you were stolen from me at just 17 years old.
Today would have been your 25th - and I still miss you every single day.
Losing a child NEVER gets any easier. My son was shot & killed simply for playing his music.
Our movie theaters, gas stations, parks, malls, & schools must be safe for our families.
After the murder of my son, I stood up to change the laws that failed my family.
Ever since I stood up and spoke out, I have been attacked relentlessly.
The new president of the NRA said I only won in 2018 because I’m a “minority woman.” Donald Trump Jr. attacked my character. And the National GOP harassed my elderly mother in law.
Today is an especially hard time for my family. In 2012 on Black Friday, my son Jordan was shot and killed.
I always spend this time of the year in deep reflection. I think about my son, my faith, and my family.
[1/x]
I recall my statement on the stand to my son's killer:
“There will be no graduation, daughter-in-law, or future generation for us. I too must be willing to forgive, and so I choose to forgive you for taking my son’s life. I pray that God has mercy on your soul.”
As each Black Friday goes by, I deeply mourn Jordan’s death.
But I take time to reflect on the process we have made.