One never imagines they would ever write a eulogy for their child. Adrian died by suicide on May 21st, 2019 - a month, to the day, short of his 24th birthday. This is what I wrote and read at his funeral:
For a guy who hated crowds, Adrian sure drew a large crowd yesterday and today. He touched so many lives. We are overwhelmed by the outpouring of love. I speak for my family and Adrian in thanking all of you for making us feel the love.
I want to start by briefly touching on how he died. Help us to drown out the idea that suicide is something to be ashamed of …. The unique pain of this kind of loss is made worse by the silence and shame that doesn’t need to accompany it. All the what if’s won’t bring him back. May we all honestly express the pain, anger and guilt we are feeling. Let’s remember the good times. This will help us process this loss. I won’t assume I know how to grieve, nor do I know how you will grieve. I know I will do my best to accept every process, and to support my loved ones through this. Adrian is not defined by the manner in which he died. He is defined by how he lived his life.
Adrian had a tattoo on his forearm that read 1 + 1 = 3 which reminded him to go above and beyond, to give his 100% + 1, and to never settle for less. He lived his life in that way.
24 years ago today I was very pregnant. He was due on June 10th and we kind of had to force him out. Believe me, I tried. Much to Glenn’s dismay, I went on a few very fast and bumpy seadoo rides to help urge him out. Even the highest dose of medical inducing wouldn’t get him out. He had a purpose. He was to enter this world on summer solstice. The day with the longest amount of sunshine. Memere called him sunshine because that’s what he was. He was that bright sun in our lives. And, so began his larger than life journey.
The surgeon commented that he had never seen a baby so alert, right from the get go. He took in everything with such passion and had a genuine appreciation for everyone and everything. If you met Adrian, you liked him and you remembered him. He made you feel important. He was authentic. He was funny. He spread love. He WAS love. I knicknamed him the love bug from a young age.
He was extremely proud of his French Canadian and newfie heritage. He had a tattoo of the fleur de lys.
Family was very important for him. He wanted to plan family gatherings. He tried to come with me every time I went to visit family and when he did, he whistled to music the entire car ride. He loved his siblings, and all of his family immensely. And he expressed it. He didn’t care that he showed his vulnerable side. He was so proud of all of our accomplishments and he celebrated with us, he celebrated FOR us; all the while downplaying his own.
He was extremely humble. He wasn’t afraid to say what he thought. He knew how to listen. He loved music. He gave the best hugs. His kind heart were infectious. He was sensitive, because he loved so much.
He had a divine intuition. He remembered every detail of every experience because he was present. You couldn’t ask him to go find his socks, find my jeans that got lost in his whirlwind of clean piles of clothes in his room, or remember to do a task he needed to do. He was too busy thinking of more important things - things that really mattered.
I hate it that he had to leave us. But who am I to argue with what is. More importantly, who am I to argue with his choice. He may have made a choice that I will never fully comprehend or agree with, but I know he did not choose to hurt any of us. How bloody lucky was I to have been chosen to be his mother. He doesn’t want me to bury myself in deep sorrow and to never recover from this. Instead, he has given me an even deeper wanting for being a better person for having known him. For having been loved by him. He is an inspiration. I know I can find it in me to be a better person by this tragic experience. After all, I carried him in my body, we carried one another for almost 24 years; I know he is going to carry me for the rest of my life on this earth. He has three siblings he wants me to be whole for, and he wants me to love them even more fiercely now. He wants me to take from this and help others who will experience similar. He wants me to judge less, love more. He wants me to be less distracted, more present and pay attention to every detail of someone’s features, word, the way they breathe, how they feel, the sound of their voice, how they walk, - PAY MORE ATTENTION.
He lived 23 short years but the impact he had is worth many lifetimes over. He was the best role model for living life, for expecting more. If he wasn’t already a huge inspiration in my life; I can guarantee you that I promise to honour him in fertilizing and feeding that Adrian seed that will live in my forever. Je t’aime Adrian. Merci pour ton amour et repose en pain mon soleil.