PULLMAN, Wash. -- Kym Hilinski used to worry about getting a speeding ticket on the trip from Spokane to Pullman. If she was making the drive, it meant she was on the way to see her son, Tyler, and that anticipation made it tempting to cover the 75 miles faster than the hour and 20 minutes it usually takes.
"I just couldn't wait to get here to see Tyler," she said, before her smile quickly fades. "And then to get here now and not see him -- it's pretty tough."
In the nearly eight months that have passed since Tyler Hilinski died by suicide, these types of moments are common.