Given the opportunity to tell you about Rader, I find myself tongue-tied. I could say anything; maybe that's what makes it so hard. How to distill down an entire existence?
Does it sound crazy that what I want you to know about my child who died by suicide is that he loved life? Humor was so important to him. He looked for the silliness in everything. We got a kick out of things like reading signs at night that had bulbs burnt out, and trying to make sense of what was left illuminated. (Google images of "signs with letters missing" if you don't know what I mean.) And every contact in his phone had letters transposed on purpose, or misspellings. I think I was omm.
These two pictures from his last Christmas are some of my favorites. We went out to dinner with the Ward side grandparents and aunt and uncle and cousins, and I took this photo by the Christmas tree in the restaurant. I told my kids to squeeze together like they liked each other, and got these smiles as a result. The next week, we went to Disney, and in the Pirates of the Caribbean gift shop, he tried on all the fingertip tentacles. Clearly he thought this was hilarious! He was a 15-year-old boy.
He was a 15-year-old boy who had the whole world ahead of him. He could do complex math in his head and had a weird sixth sense for what direction he was facing at any given time. He seemed to understand computer programming languages as if each one was his native tongue. He decided early in elementary school that he wanted to become a video game designer, figured out what steps were required to do that, and never wavered from that path. He published some very sophisticated games and projects on a variety of platforms — including, of course, some things that were completely ridiculous. As he liked them.
What would have come next? What would he be doing now, halfway through his senior year of high school? What would be funny to 17-year-old Rader? I have some ideas. Frequently I find things I want to share with him. If only.