When you lose a child, you find out about things you never knew existed such as International Bereaved Mother’s Day in May and National Bereaved Parents Month in July.
As stated in the Bereaved Parents Group on Facebook; “This isn’t a club anyone wants to join. It’s one you wake up in when the world tilts and never fully rights itself again.”
Truer words were never spoken.
I’m becoming very emotional as I type this because July is also the month when my beloved John was taken away from us by such a stupid, senseless act of gun violence.
I feel the need to visit John’s grave today so I’ll close this entry now by saying;
If you know a bereaved parent, say their child’s name.
Not because it will make them sad.
But because it reminds them that someone else remembers, too.
John Leon Wilks
John watching fireworks, July 4, 2024. His last Fourth of July celebration.John, now – July 4, 2025
As I navigate this journey of grief, I actively observe the healing processes of other mothers who have lost their children to murder. I recognize that the grief experience is not the same for everyone, but I’m particularly focused on how some mothers honor their children and ensure their legacies endure. Some mothers choose to remember their children privately. In contrast, some assertively commemorate their child’s loss each year in meaningful ways. It is clear that each approach is valid and speaks to the unique relationship between a mother and her child.
Tamala Payne
On December 4, 2020, Tamala Payne’s son, Casey Goodson Jr., was shot multiple times while trying to enter his grandmother’s home. His death sparked a movement in Columbus, Ohio, addressing the circumstances of his shooting. Casey’s death was one of several involving Black individuals killed by white law enforcement officers in Ohio over the past decade. It occurred at the end of a year marked by widespread protests across the nation following the murder of George Floyd.
Deputy Sheriff Jason Meade was charged with murder and reckless homicide in the December 2020 killing of Casey Goodson Jr. Meade, who is white, shot Goodson six times, including five times in the back, as the 23-year-old Black man tried to enter his grandmother’s home. He stated Goodson waived a firearm at him and refused to drop it.
According to Casey’s family, Casey was coming home from the dentist office with Subway sandwiches. Upon entering his Grandmother’s house, where Casey lived, former Deputy Sheriff Michael Jason Meade shot Casey through the screen door. There were family members and siblings home at the time.
Casey was wearing AirPods when he was shot 6 times in the back. Former Deputy Sheriff Michael Jason Meade took Casey’s life, just 4 days after Thanksgiving. That was the last holiday the entire family spent together.
I remember the outrage that spread throughout our city when this news story broke. I recall crying for that mother and thanking God that I didn’t have to experience such pain.Little did I know that one day, I too, would also endure the excruciating pain of losing my son to gun violence.
The March For Casey Goodson Jr.
On December 12, 2020, hundreds marched peacefully in support of justice for Casey Goodson Jr,. The protest events took place on both Friday night and Saturday during the day in Downtown Columbus on High Street and around the Ohio Statehouse.
Candlelight Vigil For Casey Goodson
On December 4, 2021, the Columbus community came together for a candlelight vigil to remember the life of Casey Goodson Jr.
This marked the first anniversary of his murder.
“We’re celebrating his life, not the day that he passed,” said Goodson’s mother, Tamala Payne.
Authorities arrested Jason Meade earlier that week and charged him with Goodson’s murder.
Payne, said the vigil is not for mourning, but rather a call for justice over her son’s death.
Tank Day
The first annual “Tank Day” for the family of Casey Goodson Jr. was Saturday, June 26, 2021. It’s a day to honor the life and legacy of Casey Jr.
“It’s good to have people come out and celebrate Casey. His name is still out there, and people are still fighting. I fight every day. I keep everybody fighting every day,” said Tamala.
Five years after the murder of Casey Goodson Jr., I found myself attending the fifth annual “Tank Day” to honor him. I felt an unspoken bond with his mother, Tamala Payne; it was a sisterhood. She walked with grace, courage, and strength as she addressed the crowd to thank us for attending this special day dedicated to her son.
I wanted to approach her, hug her, and thank her for being such a wonderful example to mothers who have lost a child to gun violence. I wanted to express that I was now part of this unwanted club along with her, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Sometimes, it’s difficult to talk about John’s murder. I knew I would be a blubbering mess, so instead of speaking with her, I walked over to a swing, sat down, and watched John’s daughter, grinning from ear to ear, as she jumped in the bounce house and petted the zoo animals. This brought comfort to my broken heart and filled my mind with cherished memories of John as a child.
I imagine that hearing the laughter of all the children present today likely stirred similar memories of Casey for Tamala.
Group Photo of Casey’s Family and Friends after Tank Day CelebrationMothers Of Murdered Columbus Children with Tamala showing supportA “flower” from my Buttercup (John’s Daughter)
Case Update For The Murder of Casey Goodson
In February 2024, the jury ended up deadlocked in the trial of Jason Meade. Casey Goodson Jr’s family is now waiting for a new trial to begin. They are waiting for a Supreme Court ruling on the use of deadly force. Once they have a ruling, they will put Jason Meade’s case into the process for another court date.
The last time we spoke to our prosecution team was on January 15, 2025. Exactly six months ago today, and still, no updates.
This is when many of us who experience crime, particularly involving murder, realize the difference between real life and television drama. TV portrayals of legal proceedings, including courtroom trials, often show characters resolving cases in just one or two episodes. In reality, however, the legal process can take months or even years. Delays are common due to various legal issues, scheduling conflicts, and the necessity for thorough investigation and preparation.
Victims often find the legal process to be a taxing and demanding journey. The complex nature of legal proceedings, which includes numerous motions, plea deals, and evidentiary hearings, can be frustrating. We’re currently at a critical point in my son’s murder case and are still waiting for a decision from the defense. During our last meeting, the prosecutors concluded by requesting a follow-up discussion with the defense, as well as our response. This could potentially bring this horrific process to an end sooner rather than later. Yet, all we seem to do is wait.
So many questions are running through my mind. The longer we wait, the more fearful I become.
I want answers.
I want a decision.
I just want this nightmare to be over.
What is taking so long?
If this were Law and Order, it would have been over, but of course, it’s not. This is reality.
It’s time to call our Victims Advocate because my patience is past wearing thin.
After the profound tragedy of losing John on July 28, 2024, to gun violence, i felt a deep sense of powerlessness. Participating in today’s Walk for Peace offered me another path to finding strength and reclaiming my voice.
I didn’t get much sleep last night because I was just too excited. Over the past six months, I have participated in deeply moving events with the Mothers of Murdered Columbus Children. However, during today’s Walk for Peace, I sensed a subtle difference: my closest family members chose to walk alongside me.
Everytown for Gun Safety, the largest gun violence prevention organization in the U.S., organized the Walk for Peace. Moms Demand Action, a grassroots organization and part of Everytown, advocates for public safety measures to reduce gun violence and led the walk. In a show of solidarity, many Mothers of Murdered Columbus Children participated, sending a powerful message: Together, We Can End Gun Violence.
Before the walk, participants chatted, hugged, and took pictures. Moms Demand Action, the event organizers, then asked us to print the names of our lost loved ones on white or orange hearts, and they would include those in a special surprise for us at the end of the walk.
Ronnie, Me and John’s Daughter Cindy, Ronnie, My Buttercup, and MeMoms On Demand/MOMCC Members Walking For PeaceMore MOMCC members Walking For Peace
A survivor of gun violence then shared her story, which moved everyone to tears. After the conclusion of the speech and prayer, we all lined up and were ready to go.
Officers from the Columbus Police Department joined us not only for protection but also to demonstrate solidarity, which was a beautiful sight to witness. This solidarity is essential. When police participate in peace walks, it creates opportunities for positive interactions with community members, helping to build trust and improve relationships.
Walking with me were my husband, Ronnie, my sister, Cindy, and my buttercup, who is John’s daughter. We walked with purpose and pride, wearing “We Can End Gun Violence” t-shirts and badges with John’s pictures over our hearts. Kammy carried her favorite photo of her daddy, showing John lovingly cuddling her while they slept. I wore John’s favorite hat, the one he’s wearing in the picture on our badges. I will always wear John’s hat whenever I walk, so I can have a piece of him walking with me.
The route took us to the Eastside of Columbus, an area that has seen the highest number of homicides this year. We walked along East Livingston Avenue, which is my husband’s childhood neighborhood. His house was located at the corner of South 18th Street and East Livingston Avenue.
This walk was deeply moving because my family joined me, but it held even deeper significance for him. He walked for peace in memory of his son while remembering the many times he played in the streets we crossed as a child.
As we marched, residents recorded us on their phones and cheered from their homes. Cars honked in support as they passed by on the street, and the blaring of horns was even louder from below us as we stood on the bridge, pressing our signs against the fence that lined the overpass.
It was truly empowering. Being heard and acknowledged brought strength and validation!
The Children Leading the Way – They’re our future!
We left the bridge area and began heading back. All of a sudden, my granddaughter screamed and pointed at a building en route, “Look, MiMi! Daddy is here with us!” I smiled and replied, “He sure is, Buttercup. This is definitely a message from your daddy reminding us that he’s always with us!”
*I’ve continuously said throughout my blog, be open to the signs and messages your loved ones are sending you from the other side*
As we approached the end of the walk, we paused to stand on the sidewalk of Livingston Ave. This was the “Say Their Names” moment, where everyone present stood still and shouted the names of their loved ones lost to gun violence. This allowed everyone to acknowledge and honor them. Tears began to flow down my face, especially when Ronnie said, “John Leon Wilks,” with such power and pride.
Acknowledging our loved ones lost to gun violence is so important. Saying the name of a loved one lost to gun violence is an act of remembrance. It’s a call for action and a way to humanize them, ensuring that their lives are not forgotten. These names have transformed our pain into purpose.
We concluded where we began, and a surprise awaited us. During our Walk for Peace, a few organizers stayed behind and created a collage of the paper hearts inscribed with the names of our loved ones. This frame honors those whom we lost but will never forget.
Kammy’s picture was next to the frame, along with a couple of other photographs of loved ones lost to gun violence.
Her white heart, which says “Daddy,” is located two white hearts up and one to the left. When I saw how close her heart was to the picture, it was another tear-jerking moment for me. She loves and misses her daddy so much.
I’m so glad to have participated in this Walk For Peace.
Before leaving, I paused, looked around, and then gazed up at the Heavens. With pride in my heart and tears in my eyes, I said, “Hey, son, I did it. I finished my first Walk for Peace in your honor. I’m doing my best to fulfill the promise I made to you— to make this world a better and safer place by turning my pain into purpose.”
Tonight, I attended the National Gun Violence Awareness Day Vigil with my Sister, who flew into Columbus from Atlanta. Cindy came not only as a source of support but also to participate in the upcoming #WearOrange events. Wear Orange events are nationwide initiatives to raise awareness about gun violence, honor survivors, and demand action to prevent it.
Mothers of Murdered Columbus Children were asked to bring pictures of their “angels,” the children they lost to gun violence, to place on the VIP table. As I positioned John’s picture on the table, tears began to well up in my eyes. I still can’t believe that his face is now among many others who are no longer with us.
Before entering the room for the vigil, we wrote the names of our loved ones on white bags. Volunteers placed a flameless candle inside each bag, which would light up at the end of the ceremony in remembrance of the lives lost.
The Vigil
The vigil aimed to raise awareness of gun violence. It honored and remembered those who lost their lives, while also highlighting the efforts that people are making to prevent it.
I found inspiration in all the vigil speakers, including police officers and elected officials working to reduce gun violence in Columbus. I felt a strong connection to Sasha Bannister, a young mother who shared the painful experience of losing her 15-year-old son, Devon Bannister. In 2022, a young man, carrying a gun, shot and killed Devon.
Hearing this mother speak filled me with a strong wave of emotion, and I couldn’t help but cry. I felt every bit of her pain as she expressed her feelings to the audience. Her words transported me back to that dreadful moment when I learned the tragic news that someone had shot and killed John.
I was deeply moved by her entire speech, especially when she said, “People say time heals all wounds, but that’s not really true. Time just teaches you how to carry the pain differently. Some days, I carry it with tears; other times, I carry it with anger. And on days like this, I carry it with purpose.”
The evening concluded with a photo session. Malissa Thomas St. Clair, founder of MOMCC, always captures a group photo of mothers holding pictures of our Angels. She also snapped many individual photos with Vigil attendees to share on the organization’s social media pages.
This vigil was a deeply emotional experience for me. I found myself crying throughout as we honored our loved ones lost to gun violence. As I exited the building, I saw City Hall illuminated in orange in their memory, which made me cry even more.
When I look at John’s bags glowing with love, I remember the vigil organizer’s statement: “Every lost life represents a story that ended too soon.”
Since I attended the Bereaved Mothers’ Day Brunch several weeks ago, I’ve been quite busy. I still break down and cry more often than not, but the past several weeks have been better. I’m still learning how to navigate my life without John.
I believe that God has a way of preparing some people for what’s to come without them even realizing it. I mention this because the year before his murder, John seemed to distance himself from us—not due to any disagreements or issues, but because he wanted to prove to himself that he could make it on his own. As a result, his visits and phone calls became less frequent. I didn’t crowd him because I knew he wanted his space to spread his wings.
As I began to adjust to his absence, I found some comfort in knowing that he was always only a phone call or text away if I wanted to check on him or hear his voice. Unfortunately, I can no longer reach out to him because he is gone for good.
Promises, Promises
I am determined to honor the promises I made to John, keeping them at the forefront of my mind. In addition to becoming a member of Mothers of Murdered Columbus Children, I have also joined “Moms Demand Action.”
Moms Demand Action is a grassroots organization that advocates for public safety measures to prevent gun violence. The organization works towards stronger gun laws and aims to close loopholes that could compromise safety.
I joined this organization just in time for “Wear Orange Weekend,” which will take place this year from June 6 to 8. This weekend, we will honor the survivors of gun violence, remember those whose lives were senselessly taken, and stand together in solidarity against this preventable crisis.
I get emotional just thinking about this weekend.
Why We Wear Orange?
The following is a post on the Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America Facebook page explaining why we wear orange.
On January 21, 2013, Hadiya Pendleton, a high school student from the South Side of Chicago, marched in President Obama’s second inaugural parade. One week later, Hadiya was shot and killed on a playground in Chicago. She was only 15 years old.
Soon after Hadiya’s death, her friends commemorated her life by wearing orange, the color hunters wear in the woods to protect themselves. In June 2015, a broad coalition asked people nationwide to join what Hadiya’s friends started for the first annual National Gun Violence Awareness Day. This year, we #WearOrange again to call attention to our nation’s gun violence crisis and honor victims and survivors of gun violence.
Today, Hadiya should have turned 28. We honor her and all whose lives have been taken or forever changed by gun violence. Wear orange and share your picture on social media with the #WearOrange hashtag on June 6, National Gun Violence Awareness Day. Then, on June 6-8, join a Wear Orange Weekend event.
This is 15-year-old Hadiya Pendleton. Her senseless death inspired the Wear Orange campaign to bring awareness to our nation’s preventable gun violence crisis.
Wear Orange Weekend
As mentioned earlier, I will be participating in several Wear Orange activities from June 6-8, including the “Walk For Peace” on June 7th.
My Wear Orange package arrived just in time, and I’m ready! John’s presence will be acknowledged in a meaningful way. Every family member who joins me will proudly wear a button featuring John’s image over their hearts. I will also wear John’s favorite hat, keeping a physical piece of him with me whenever I participate in MOMCC and Moms Demand Action events, especially during this Walk for Peace.
It’s the week after Mother’s Day, and I’m still standing. I feel broken-hearted and sad, but I remain hopeful for the future that God has planned for me.
The future is bright if I continue to embrace positivity. Of course, the loss of my dear John will always be a part of my life—day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. I smile through the tears as much as I can, but I also allow myself to be honest about my feelings. There will always be challenging days because a huge part of my life and heart is missing, but I refuse to let it destroy me.
That’s why I continue to push myself to stay active and remain connected with a supportive group of women who understand my pain: Mothers of Murdered Columbus Children.
Today, along with many of my fellow Sister Soldiers, I attended a Mother’s Day brunch called “Love Beyond Loss.” This event was specifically for mothers who have lost a child to violence, and it was beautifully organized by the Columbus CARE Coalition.
We enjoyed delicious food, shared fellowship, and created Love Bouquets/Letters to the children we’ve lost to violence.
Mother’s Day was arduous, but today was a soothing balm for my soul. It felt like a day of hope.
On May 15, 2025, Mothers of Murdered Columbus Children, in partnership with the Columbus Division of Police, hosted their #UnderTripleDigits2025 Quarter 1 Safety Review and Strategic Data Meeting. This meeting was truly cathartic, and I feel so blessed to have attended.
Many incredible people gathered for one purpose: to stop the violence in Columbus, Ohio. This was the first meeting to contain so many organizations at once. Among those in attendance were elected officials, faith leaders, law enforcement representatives, leaders from global, federal, state, county, city, and nonprofit organizations.
The meeting began with delicious food and a presentation of current crime statistics. Scott Gibson provided an update on the year-to-date homicide numbers and community reports.
After the introduction and group hands-on Crime Analysis Activities, the presentations began.
Those in attendance shared stories that moved me to tears, stories of how crime deeply affected their lives.
My first emotional moment came when Mike St. Clair, the husband of MOMCC founder Malissa St. Clair, spoke about the barriers that young adults aged 17 to 25 face in our city. He recounted the graduation challenges his son, Anthony, faced in the Columbus Public School system before someone murdered him in 2013. At that time, the state required all Ohio students to pass the Ohio Graduation Test (OGT) to graduate. Students must pass all five sections: reading, writing, math, science, and social studies to receive a high school diploma.
Anthony passed all sections except for science. Despite taking the test a total of seven times, he fell just two points short of passing the science portion. Consequently, he was unable to graduate with his class, which significantly altered the course of his life. He was on track to secure a football scholarship for college. Although he eventually obtained his high school diploma, by that time, the college offer had already been rescinded.
Mike often reflects on whether his son would still be alive today if he had been able to go to college and pursue a different path.
The second wave of tears began when the Domestic Violence Unit spoke. Diana Williams, the founder of Ohio Women Against Domestic Violence, shared her personal experience with domestic violence and how she overcame it. Ronnette Hairston, the Director of the Mothers of Murdered Columbus Children, is also a domestic violence survivor. She recounted how she left her abuser with her four children because she could no longer endure the situation. Ronnette made a promise to her son, who was murdered in 2021, that she would do something meaningful in his memory. She advocates for women experiencing domestic abuse through her work with Ohio Women Against Domestic Violence.
Another MOMCC member, Sonya Edgington Chapel, spoke about her daughter India, who was murdered as a result of domestic abuse. Each year, they honor her memory with India’s Purple Ribbon Walk, which takes place in May.
These women are true warriors. I support them wholeheartedly and salute their courage.
The final round of tears occurred at the end of the meeting, where MOMCC celebrated the CPD Major Crime Bureau.
Thankfully, in my case, authorities arrested Miller the Killer just hours after he murdered my son, John. I don’t know the pain of having my child’s killer roam free, but I certainly understand the anguish of such a devastating loss.
Members of MOMCC expressed their gratitude and recognized the hard work of the detectives and police officers. We presented tokens of appreciation, commemorative coins, and medals to those who dedicated themselves to solving homicide cases. Many tears were shed when we witnessed several of my fellow Sister Soldiers personally thanking the detectives who persevered and ultimately brought justice to their families.
It was a beautiful sight to see!
Time flew by so quickly, and before I knew it, the meeting was over. I felt honored to be a part of it. It was wonderful to witness such unity coming together to reduce crime and make our city safer. I am doing my best to honor my son. His death will not be in vain. I am determined to make this community a better place in his name.
I have so many emotions swirling through my body, twisting and turning my heart and mind.
Overwhelming sadness.
An unending flow of tears has continued since I woke up this morning, and they won’t stop no matter how hard I try.
Once again, John’s absence shatters my heart into a million pieces.
How do I get through it?
Everywhere I look, I think of him. As I walk down the hall toward John’s bedroom, I stop at the door. A smile spreads across my face when I see the remnants of the peel-and-stick letters that spell out his name. I recall how excited he was when we placed his name on the door as a child and how irritated he became as a teenager when the name remained visible despite our many efforts to remove it.
“Mom, can you please get something to remove my name entirely?” Can Dad paint over it? He would complain, “It’s embarrassing.”
“I’ll have him do it, John,” I would reply, but he never seemed to find the time.
Now, I’m glad he didn’t.
It’s a piece of John that will remain with me forever.
Closing my eyes, I lean my head on the door and imagine him on the other side—lying in his red race car bed when he was five, playing on the floor surrounded by his army men, sleeping soundly on the top bunk when he was ten, cleaning the aquarium of his pet snake “Curly” and giggling with his little sister as they made up funny songs to sing.,,”We loooove music…We loooove music…”
I think of him growing into a tall, handsome teenager with a cell phone constantly in his hand, his first girlfriend, and playing video games for hours on end.
As an adult, he often returned to this room seeking refuge while trying to navigate the challenges of life. For many years, this space became a revolving door for John. Ultimately, we wanted him to learn how to stand on his own. He was finally on that path when his life was tragically cut short—a wonderful soul gunned down by a coward because of a stupid argument.
I open my tear-stained eyes and look at the faded letters on John’s door, which serve as a powerful reminder of his absence from this world. It’s a constant, somber reminder of his departure—a tangible symbol of his absence that resonates deeply in my heart.
I was scrolling through my Facebook page today and saw the following post on my timeline from Paula Hill, founder of Austin’s Sunshine Foundation.
Needless to say, it took me by surprise.
The post said “Happy Bereaved Mother’s Day”
After seeing this, I thought two things: First, I had no clue this day existed and second, this is an oxymoron.
I am a grieving mother. The word “Happy” before “Bereaved” made no sense.
Bereavement is not happiness.
I wanted to know more about this day, so I researched online and found that Bereaved Mother’s Day is observed on the first Sunday in May.
That’s interesting. Mother’s Day always falls on the second Sunday in May.
I continued to read :
“Bereaved Mother’s Day honors Mothers who have lost a child. It is intended to provide a space for grieving mothers to express their loss in any way they may need. This day can be a celebration of mothers as well as a remembrance of loss“
After completing this, I thought, “Okay, it’s starting to make more sense, and it’s a good idea to mark this day on the Sunday before Mother’s Day.”
I returned to Paula’s post and continued from where I had left off. Paula was a guest speaker in an online Grief 2 Hope session I attended a few weeks ago. Her son, Austin, died in a motorcycle accident when he was in his early twenties. His death inspired her to create a non-profit charity, Austin’s Sunshine Foundation, in his honor.
The more I read, the more I understood why I should be “happy’ for this special day.
Bereaved Mother’s Day: A Love That Time Cannot Dim
To every mother who carries the weight of love with empty arms—this day is for you.
Bereaved Mother’s Day, observed the Sunday before Mother’s Day, is a sacred space to honor the mothers whose children live in Heaven, not in their homes. It is a day born not out of celebration, but remembrance. Out of pain but also enduring love. It is a day that quietly whispers, you are still a mother—and always will be.
There is no word powerful enough to describe a mother who has lost her child. No language that fully captures the ache, the resilience, or the sacred bond that death cannot sever. Your love did not end the day your child left this earth. In many ways, it deepened, growing roots in places invisible to the eye—etched into your very soul.
You are not forgotten.
You are not invisible.
You are not alone.
While the world may hurry past your grief, you remain steadfast in your love. The way you speak their name. The way you remember their birthday. The way your eyes still search the sky, catching glimpses of them in sunsets, feathers, butterflies, or songs that suddenly play when you need them most.
That is motherhood, too.
There is immeasurable strength in simply waking up each day and carrying this love forward. There is grace in allowing yourself to grieve, to cry, to laugh again. And there is sacred beauty in the way you still parent from afar—honoring their memory, telling their story, and living a life that speaks their name.
To the mother who feels forgotten: You are remembered.
To the mother who feels broken: You are still whole in the eyes of love.
To the mother who wonders if she counts today: You do. More than words could ever say.
This day is for you.
We see your heart.
We speak your child’s name with you.
We honor the love that lives on.
From one grieving mother to another, I want you to know—you are so deeply loved. Your child mattered. Your grief matters. You matter.
May today bring you a moment of peace, a breath of gentleness, and the reminder that even in the darkest silence, your love echoes forever.
You will always be their mother.
The Lightbulb Moment
Paula’s heartfelt post gave me a new perspective, and now everything makes perfect sense. Tears were streaming down my face.
Bereaved Mother’s Day is a special day for mothers like me to pause, cherish the wonderful memories of being John’s mother, and to honor him.
Although John is no longer here, I am grateful for the gift of motherhood and the happiness it has brought into my life.
Thank you, son.
Now that I fully understand, I can lovingly say:
Happy Bereaved Mother’s Day to all mothers whose children have gone before them and are now in Heaven.
