A Eulogy for Andrew

My son passed away on July 28, 2025... after a reaction to his medicine... these are my frail words trying to make sense of it all...

“Children are a gift from the Lord; they are His reward.” ... Psalm 127:3

I am Chelsea and Andrew’s father. And there is nothing I could ever do...no accomplishment, no other title...that brings me more joy than being their dad.

A few months ago, I left my job to care for Andrew full-time. I didn’t know how short the time would be, but I am so grateful I had that opportunity. We got to go to the community center each day. We went to Walmart twice a day. I got to see him take his walks around the neighborhood 10 or 20 times a day. We got to be together...and work for better things.

Today we remember Andy…
Andy the gamer.
The stargazer.
The psychology student.
The world walker.
The author.
The comedian.
The deep thinker.
The coffee drinker.

We remember Andy...our precious son, loving brother, cousin, nephew, grandson, friend, and neighbor. And we remember Andy as one who suffered greatly these past few years with schizophrenia.

Today, I’m wearing his favorite Birkenstocks and a replica of his Jupiter t-shirt. It’s a replica because if I wore his original, well-worn one, it would be a crop top… and nobody needs to see that. I don’t know how many miles he walked in these sandals… but I know our neighbors saw him in them...day and night. He walked and walked… saying hello to those he saw… sometimes trying to process what he was experiencing, sometimes trying to push through the pain.

Just a few weeks ago, on a walk, I asked him to tell me about Jupiter...his favorite planet. He started by telling me that the core is hotter than the surface of the sun. That each layer of Jupiter is distinct...even in how they smell. And that Jupiter’s powerful gravity deflects or captures comets and asteroids, protecting Earth from their impact. That was Andy...fascinated by the universe. Intelligent, curious, and filled with wonder.

But along with his diagnosis came cruel and relentless voices...speaking pain into him daily. If you’ve seen A Beautiful Mind with Russell Crowe, you know a small piece of what he faced every day, from the moment he woke up until he went to sleep...voices and visions, often of those who had been most cruel to him.

In recent months, the voices grew darker. They said things like, “Andy, we have to kill you.”
Imagine carrying that. Imagine trying to function in a world that often didn’t understand.
And yet… he was kind. He showed gentleness in the middle of agony. He loved. He was still full of joy in moments. He still laughed. Then so quickly it all changed when he had a reaction to his meds… and we didn’t realize what had happened until it was too late.

I’ve thought about all the things he will miss…
Holidays with family and the freezing Silver Dollar City Christmastime.
Finishing his psychology degree and becoming a counselor.
Writing his sci-fi novel where each character suffered from mental illness.
Going down the KaPau Plummet at White Water.
Drinking his oatmeal cookie chai from Hometown.
Walking alongside the river at Dogwood Canyon.
Eating his linguini tutto mare from Vito’s.

But then I realized… he’s not missing a thing. He is not missing joy.
He is experiencing it in its fullness.
We are the ones who will miss him in all those places.
We are the ones aching for his presence.

C.S. Lewis once wrote:

“We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and pleasure and ambition when infinite joy is offered us...like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.”

Lewis reminds us that even the best things of this life can’t compare to what God has prepared for His children.

Andrew is no longer in the mud puddles of this world. His suffering is over. And now, it would be incredibly selfish of me to want him back here...to suffer in this world only more.
He is at his holiday at the sea… in perfect peace.
He sees and knows the fullness of God’s love in a way we can’t yet grasp.
No more pain. No more sorrow. Only joy.

On Christmas Eve, our family always watches A Christmas Carol.
Our favorite version...of course...is The Muppet Christmas Carol.
I could whistle a tune from it in July, and Andy would immediately start singing the lyrics.

There’s a moment in the story...after Tiny Tim’s death is shown to Scrooge...when Bob Cratchit speaks of his son with aching love:

“We must never forget Tiny Tim, or how patient and mild he was, although he was a little, little child. We must remember his patience and his mildness, and we shall never quarrel easily among ourselves and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it.”

And so, though my words here will soon be forgotten and we’ll all go back to our lives… I ask you just one thing:
When life feels heavy…
When you're tempted to choose anger or cynicism or cruelty…
Remember Andy.
Remember a young man who suffered deeply and still chose kindness.
Still chose love.
Still chose to go on.
Remember him… and choose to be kind.
Say thank you.
Hold the door open.
Smile, even when sorrow presses in.

It is said that sad birds still sing.
Andy did. And we can too.
Not because it’s easy...but because it matters.

I am Chelsea and Andrew’s father.
I will miss Andy every day. The places we used to go together feel incomplete now.

But we hold tight to the Lord’s hope that this is not the end of his story...
and not the end of ours.
We’ll see him again, whole and radiant.
Until then… we’ll remember…

And maybe love just a little deeper.

Author's Note

Still feeling a bit lost...

Reviews

[Sky]

I’m so deeply sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through, but please know my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this heartbreaking time.

[An owl on the moon]

Truly needing your prayers... to be found in your thoughts... your kindness. It is something so heavy. GRATEFUL FOR YOU.

[Relic]

I'm sorry to hear of your loss. I'm sure it must be crushing to experience all that you have. I knew someone who lost a son to suicide. As a parent he was never quite the same. The future will be hard but I'm sure there'll be an angel watching over you.

[An owl on the moon]

Grateful for your encouragement... for your kindness. Thank YOU. I honestly wondered for so long if we might lose him to suicide... his voices were so cruel to him. Now wanting this week to be so blessed for you.

[emmajoygreen]

(((( You - family, all, minus a breathing presence but full to capacity with Andy's undeniable being; touching walls, talking flowers, waving neighbours - and more than more could ever, ever be. ))))

'I am Chelsea and Andrew’s father.
I will miss Andy every day. The places we used to go together feel incomplete now.

But we hold tight to the Lord’s hope that this is not the end of his story...
and not the end of ours.
We’ll see him again, whole and radiant.
Until then… we’ll remember…
And maybe love just a little deeper.

Your words are more than, Owl.. .. ..

[An owl on the moon]

So grateful, Emma. It is a strange world now... in his absence... like a color is missing somehow. I am slowly starting to adjust... still unbelieving... But we go on. We all must go on. Thank you for your caring heart... always. ❤️

[emmajoygreen]

You helped me in the past. Please know the same applies in return, dear longggg known friend. Am here about if ever needed. Remember when you hear the owl call, answer back, hear its echo flying across space and into the Everywhere. Yes?

[Neha agrawal]

Hii friend,
I’m so sorry for your loss. I know nothing I say can take away the pain, but I’m keeping you and dear Andrew in my prayers. I hope he’s at peace in heaven, and I pray God gives you and your family the strength you need in this difficult time.

[An owl on the moon]

Dear Neha, so thankful you stopped here to read of my precious Andrew. Thank you for your compassionate words and life. May you find such beautiful peace in your world today. ❤️

[lightsong]

I am sorry my friend, I'm sorry beyond words to say... This touch me deep personally. May the soul of your precious Andrew keep giving you and your family peace, comfort, love and light🙏🏻

[An owl on the moon]

Thank you... thank YOU deeply, dear poet. I know his soul will be lifting us every day forward. May you and your dear ones all know the sweetest peace. ❤️

[lightsong]

Sending You and your loved ones endless prayers ✨🤍🙏🏻🤍✨

[DIVYA]

My dear friend, I have no words sufficient to convey my most profound sorrow and heartbreak at your loss. Being the mother of a son who has had extreme OCD, I can appreciate Andy's struggle with mental illness and the courage in his magnificent soul. He chose kindness, he chose joy and now, we must do the same in order to honour his wonderful life. And in the depths of our despair, we must not forget to celebrate Andy's life - that Andy happened, Andy lived and brought such joy to us while he was here.

I also join you in your hopes that Andy is with God now, he's at a very beautiful beach and he's experiencing joy to the fullest -free from every pain in this world. He will be in my thoughts and prayers today.

May God be with you and your family in these difficult days. 🙏

Divya

[An owl on the moon]

Thank you so much, dear friend. I appreciate your presence here... grateful for your kind words... your understanding... your lifting hope. I miss my son so deeply... but I know his heart and mind are finally free from all the pain he suffered through. May I learn to live my life to honor his more. Take good care of you please... ❤️