Answer me: As I write this letter fighting to hold back the tears. I just want to know why why did you do it. Why did you kill my son? Where did that come from? Do you know what you did to me? Or, do you even care? My son was here for twenty one years and you had to go and steal him from me. I am so sad for all of the families, friends and each other that have had to suffer this cruel and unjust punishment of having to bury a child so soon. On that day you took fate into your own hands and decided that my son would not live to see another day. How? Did you just wake up and say. “… This is the day that I have made…” Who died and left you in charge? I would rather chew glass than to feel this constant pain. Did you know that just getting up out of bed some morning is a chore? You stole my identity on that day I had two sons now I only have one. I don’t even know how to answer when people ask me how many children? Whenever I feel that his memory is lost I grieve even harder. On Mother’s Day I let up balloons to signify how thankful I was to have been given this loan for those twenty one years. Then, I cry more. Here is the thing we was living the American dream homeowners in our early twenties, two car family both working in Corporate America, both sons in private schools all was just the way we planned it. Right? Wrong! And then you came along to rewrite my song, change my melody to “…Track of my tears…” Until one day it was so hard that I went to a well- known home improvement store to purchase one of the largest chains that I could find, and I was going to find you so that I could beat you to death with that chain. I just wanted to see you suffer for what you had done to my life that was fifteen years ago. From that I get the dreaded “…That happened a long time ago when are you going to get over it?..” My response is, “if you are my friend get over it for me B@#^&h”. So I can do other things. At times, I deal with the people that treat me like I have Leoprosy. Newsflash! Survivor grief is not contagious. So, next time that I see someone who’s breathing becomes labored and uneasy I can just tell them that “…God give it God take it away blessed be his holy name…”. Why did you have to steal my son? I did not have a chance to kiss his face for the last time, and that really hurts. I am just a human made of flesh and blood and maybe I may never reach that euphoric state of forgiveness, but to you asesino I say, “…Young man you Ask God for your own forgiveness…” Just do that for me. For family, friends and each other with the holidays rapidly approaching I am doing a series of “Living with Pain while the rest of the world scream Joy!”. A platform created by vigneelaine on Instagram. Share fond memories, photos tag #youcandoit_tiger or just leave a comment, concern, or request. I promise I will read and respond as I am able. #endgunviolence @enoughisenough @bradybuzz. Today I had a speaking engagement. Instead, I decided to write this letter @hope for the next generation.