Unspoken Pain, Unseen Wounds: A Mother’s Story of Loss Through Gun Violence
TNN News begins a deeply personal and emotional three-part series, spotlighting the voices of mothers in Bermuda who have endured the unthinkable — losing their sons to gun violence.
In this first part, we speak with a mother who has chosen to remain anonymous. Her pain is raw, her memories vivid. Though the bond she shared with her son was incredibly close, his death has left a silence that words cannot fill — only felt.
She describes the anguish that settled in like fog the day she got the call. A feeling that time has yet to clear. The resentment she feels — not just toward the person who pulled the trigger, but toward a system and a society that she believes failed her son. The guilt — that suffocating sense that perhaps she could have done something differently, seen something sooner, said something more. And the self-inflicted pain — mental, emotional, and physical — of trying to live in a world where her son no longer exists.
“Some days I wake up and forget for a moment that he’s gone,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “And then it hits me like a train — he’s not coming back. I didn’t lose him to illness, or an accident. I lost him to someone else’s decision to play God with a gun.”
This mother speaks not only for herself, but for many women who sit in silence, suffering with memories that replay over and over, unanswered questions, and birthdays that now bring more tears than joy.
Her story, like so many others, is not just about loss — it’s about what happens after. The invisible scars. The broken sleep. The numb holidays. The loneliness in a crowded room. It’s about living with pain that never goes away, only changes shape.
“I’d Rather Not Know Says This Mom”
They murdered my son. They murdered me. I live with this aching pain that nothing and no one can take away. I feel so much guilt of not being there, not being able to save my baby. I get told I’m such a great parent but that means absolutely nothing to me….I didn’t protect my son. That night I couldn’t sleep, I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t even eat, my body wouldn’t allow it. I got that call and I went numb. I’m still numb, I will forever be numb. The voices in my head always ask what if.
What if he listened to me? What if I was a more assertive mom? What if he wasn’t in that location at that time? I never have any answers. I think about the who and WHY!! Most say I’ll have justice when his killers are caught. But you know what I fear, having my son killed TWICE!
I fear having to sit through a trial and listening to details that to date I do not know. I can’t know, I won’t survive it. I fear having to listen to people defend them. I fear having to listen to the excuses for their actions. I fear they will walk free and I have to live in a world where my sons murderers go on to get married, have kids and live a happy life…all things my baby will never get to do.
My child died in a horrible horrific way and no matter how positive I pretend to be, how much I stay busy, do things even health wise, therapy etc… There is no cure to stop this pain or agony that I go through! It is something I just have to learn to adjust to and live with! I fight daily to continue to even want to live! How dare I have another day of breathe I sometimes think. I hurt myself,
I need to do this, it brings me back to reality. The blade calms my worries and tells me that one touch will take it all away. It tells me that I just need to focus on my cuts and make a clean slice. It tells me the words that I have been begging to hear, this will make it ok.
This is part one of “A Mother’s Grief.” In our next report, we will share another mother’s account — her son’s name, her ongoing fight for justice, and her journey toward healing in a country still wrestling with the roots of senseless violence.
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