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Death
Autistic Child I Worked With During College Passed Away
I saw that in the obituaries on Sunday that Tillman Moody, the autistic-child that I worked with as a counselor as a job during my college years passed away in what was described as a “accident in the home”. I worked with him for almost four years, until his condition worsened, and I became busy with my post-college job.
Apparently, in the past seven years, he went to college and was making a lot of improvements in his life, which make this all the more tragic.
His obituary basically explains it all:
Tilman Moody
ObituaryMoody, Tilman DELMAR Tilman Hammond Moody, much loved by mommy and daddy, James and Felix, Wizzy, Sofia and Rufus, died accidentally at home on Friday, January 31, 2014. Tilman was born in Glasgow, Scotland on April 9, 1989. He was a natural rebel who the world diagnosed with autism at age three years, four months. As one of the earlier generations of children with autism negotiating public school, Tilman helped to bring about brand new special education programs tailored to the unique needs of autistic individuals in Bethlehem. He overcame many obstacles to graduate Bethlehem Central High School in 2007, and went on to attend Siena College and Hudson Valley Community College. He was passionate about chemistry, woodworking, camping, landscaping, dancing, Bertie Botts jelly beans, Monopoly, and above all, reptiles. Tilman’s wild and generous spirit will live on with all who knew him, human or reptile. Relatives and friends are invited to call at the Applebee Funeral Home, 403 Kenwood Ave., Delmar on Monday, February 3, 2014 from 4 to 7 p.m. A graveside service will be held on Tuesday, at 11 a.m. in Bethlehem Cemetery, Delmar. Those who wish may send memorial donations to the Autism Society of the Greater Capital Region, 101 State St., Schenectady, NY 12305.
A very sad situation for sure. He was a good kid, despite his medical difficulties with autism. I spent many an weekend afternoon out in the community with him, and playing monopoly at his house. Smart as all get out, but he was definitely impacted by autism and the troublesome behaviors caused by autism.
More about autism, the disease he suffered from.
I stopped by his wake briefly this afternoon and offered his parents my condolences.
Some brief reflections.
Grandmother.
A month or so ago ago, I called my elderly grandmother up one last time. It was such a meaningless conversion, she repeatedly asked how I managed to grow up without being drafted into the army. I tried to explain that it’s now an all-volunteer army, and that people don’t get drafted anymore. Then it was just a short conversation about my trip to the Finger Lakes, and probably the weather.
I have to admit I haven’t called her as much lately – maybe every two or three weeks. Not weekly, like I had when I was younger. Mostly it’s been I’ve been busy with work, and been on the road most weekends camping. After work, I’m usually tired, and it’s tough trying to correspond my schedule here on the east coast, with her schedule on Mountain Time. But her death seemed to occur so quickly and I never really got to chat with about so many things that one probably should do before everyone’s death.
She always was a nice person. I last saw her five years ago, and while a different generation and background then I was, coming from suburbs, but I always had some kind of connection. I enjoyed my many chats with her, but she was distant, all the way away in Arizona. I really didn’t know how to react to her death, except maybe to offer sympathies to my mom who had just lost her own.
Death of a family member is always a strange experience, especially one where there is a lot of distance between you and the family member. I really dislike the pity-party you get from folks, who always want to offer their sympathies as a matter of respect. I actually avoided mentioning it on social media and even to my boss, until the last possible minute. I really didn’t want to get the sympathies from everyone, although at some point, I felt I should put something on the record, and I had to ask for time to see her ashes buried at the Long Island National Cemetery.
Her time had come. It was good to celebrate her memory and reflect upon her, seeing her ashes in urn as she was buried at Long Island National Cemetery, next to her husband, a war veteran. But it felt strange too, as she was a family member, but not one I had been that close to in recent years, except for our occasional phone chats about silly things like the weather or my latest trip up to the wilderness.