Identity is more than a number

An issue arose regarding our taxes yesterday. We claimed Nicholas as a dependent, and apparently a return was already filed using his social security number. We know that there could be several explanations, but one the tax preparers suggested is that someone could have his identification information.

Identity theft is so much more than helping oneself to a social security number – if one wishes to use another’s identity, one should take on attributes as well.

We do not know how Nick’s taxes were filed, but the following is an open letter addressing the possibility someone could have filed on his behalf.
Sir, the number identification used in filing your taxes belongs to my son, a young man who passed from this life last October. We do not know any details, but if you have assumed this identity, I would like to propose you must live up to his name.

Nicholas showed genuine kindness to everyone. People write me notes and tell me stories of Nick’s kindness to them and others; that is one of the privileges in being his mother. He was a natural-born helper. Last year when he spent a semester living at home, he took over my dreaded job of grocery shopping. I really dislike grocery shopping, so one day when I complained about it, he told me to just leave a list; he did not mind the task, and he took over it each week.

During Nick’s sophomore year of college, when Roger and I lived overseas, a storm blew out screens on our porch in Tennessee. Nick gave up his spring break to come home and hang out in the house alone and fix the porch. No complaints, he just did the job because he enjoyed being helpful. I remember playing in hand bell choir with Nicholas and he was always quick to assist in setting up and taking down the bells – a necessary and undesired task at the end of a practice.

Nick loved the Earth and did diligence to care for it. An avid backpacker, Nick always followed the rule of “take only pictures; leave only footprints.” I enjoyed sharing the natural world with him because he always saw beauty around him. He could look at a budding branch and see the small intricacies of life bursting through and point out the details. On a nasty, wet day, he would remind me that we need the rain and it will bring out the green.

Nick played several instruments, and loved music both as a performer and a listener. His musical taste spanned from Celtic folk classics to something called Indy rock. One of my fondest memories from last year is listening to him sing the Requiem with the combined choirs of First Presbyterian and St. Andrew’s Lutheran Churches in Franklin, TN.

While Nick marched to the beat of his own drummer, and showed a kind heart for people, animals, and nature, he did not love everything.

Nicholas detested social injustice with great ferocity. He vehemently sought for equality of all people, regardless of race, culture, belief set, or sexual orientation. I have never known someone who stayed more current with news around the world, and the only thing that ever really raised his ire, was unfairness in society. One of our last conversations centered on the education system, and his concern for the kids who slip through the cracks based on limitations from their backgrounds.

Yes, sir – this is a mighty identity. I only ask that it be used for good in this world.