In memory of Ian Gilliam

Today my kids participated in an event I thought would come much later in life: their first funeral for a peer. Ian Andrew Gilliam committed suicide on December 4th. He was one of my son's classmates, and the older brother of one of my daughter's friends. They also knew him from their JROTC activities.

C has been helping her friend deal with a lot of the "curiosity questions" that their middle school acquaintances inevitably have. Questions like "how?" and "why?" seem simple, but repeating the answers over and over again doesn't exactly help with the grieving process. C is walking her friend to her classes and supporting her decisions on healthy boundaries.

Ian's mother told a story about him at the funeral. Apparently, he was draining his lunch account fund faster than his sister, and when his mom looked up what he was spending his money on, she saw that he was buying two cookies after lunch every day.

"Why do you need two cookies every day?" she asked. He answered that one was for him, and the second one he was giving to another student -- a non-verbal, autistic classmate.

One day, Ian came home particularly excited, she said. The boy had told him, "Thank you."

Ian's death is impacting all of us. He was two weeks younger than my son. Like me, he had a slightly younger sister and a much younger brother. For me, it's crushing to look at pictures of them all together, and think of the ones I've had that they never will.

This world needed Ian in it.
It is a tragedy that it doesn't anymore.