My son will forever be 27 years old. He was killed by someone on April 12, 2022 in front of my home. He was a father of a 2-year-old son, a brother, a son, and a grandson who was loved by all who knew him dearly. There is no one awaiting trial, or even being looked at as a suspect. There is no leads or any type of justice for him. He was shot twice in the chest, and one bullet took his thumb as he was wrestling for the gun, according to his detective. He walked less than five yards to my driveway before he collapsed and took his last breath. As his mother, I heard the shots, I found my son’s body. I re-live that nightmare almost nightly in my dreams. We had a very tight bond, and I’m thankful. Hours before, I got to see him, speak with him, hug him tightly, and hear his laugh one more time. I watch his son grow up and am thankful he left us a piece of himself on this earth to carry on his legacy.