Every year on the anniversary of my son’s death, I write a letter to Jordan. He would have been 26 this year.

Dear Jordan,

With the high-profile trials in the news recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about the trial of your killer. If you were still with us, I’m sure you would have had a lot to say about the Rittenhouse verdict and the trial of the men who killed Ahmaud Arbery.

Your killer’s trial was one of the hardest moments of my life. In fact, it took two trials to get some measure of justice and the conviction our family wanted – first-degree murder.

Going to that courtroom every day to sit in the gallery and watch the trial took so much out of me. I will never forget how at the end of the first trial – the judge read the verdicts for each of the charges: guilty, guilty guilty, except for the last one – the first-degree murder charge – the judge declared a mistrial.

How? What? Why? I was stunned and confused. I left the courtroom to a sea of cameras. 

Reporters were asking: “Are you happy that you’ve received justice for your son… Can you rest now?” But, I knew justice had not been served. 

I felt deep feelings of shock and devastation. And although I did not know it at the time, I also felt resilience. I felt called to stand up, speak out, and tell your story.

Right there, as I was standing on the steps of the courthouse, I made a promise to you Jordan. And to my family, and our community. I was not done fighting for justice for you. I would do everything in my power to keep our community safe, healthy, and to keep what happened to me and my family from happening to anyone else’s. 

Every decision I’ve made since that day has been with the same intention: to follow through on that promise to you. 

Running for Congress on the platform of gun safety reform. As a two-time breast cancer survivor, fighting for better healthcare in Congress. Writing and passing legislation to improve care for our veterans, because I knew too many who were struggling. And of course, continuing the fight to end gun violence.

Jordan, I hope my decisions and actions for the last nine years have made you proud, and that you know that your legacy is making a difference. I’ll always be your mother. I’ll always love you.

– Your mom, Lucy