This week I got a call I never wanted to receive, informing me that my son, Ceilee, had been found dead in his bathroom, apparently of a drug overdose. I can only conceive of this as every parent's nightmare.
Ceilee had been struggling to put his life together for years, which included some serious bouts of depression. At some point drugs entered the picture and his mother (Annie, my ex-partner and dear friend) and I were slow to read the signs that that was part of the equation, which significantly complicated his chances for recovery. (While I don't have details about what drugs he was taking, or in what concentrations or frequency, none of that matters now. Dead is dead.)
Ceilee leaves behind a daughter, Taivyn (16), and a son, Connor (13). My grandchildren. While it had been my hope (as well as my plea to him) that their need for a stable father would be sufficient incentive for him to right the ship, it was not to be. While I do not understand drug addiction, neither do I judge those who succumb. There is no question but that it can be an awful scourge—one that has touched me this week in the most personal of ways. Both his mother and I made attempts to talk with him about his drug use, but he never opened up with us about it. I reckon he always thought he could control it; rather than the reverse. Now, a light has been extinguished that will never shine again.
Today, there is a hollow spot in my soul, and I am feeling profoundly sad. For me, for Annie, for Taivyn & Connor. There are no winners.
I had hoped to never experience the demise of either of my children, but here I am. This week, I have been living under a brooding, endless cloud, wandering kaleidoscopically from one precious memory to another, knowing there will be no new ones coming. The book is closed.
While it's hard to imagine that I'll ever laugh again—I know that, eventually, I will. I also know that it's important to be fully available for the grief, and that it's not something that can be hurried or scheduled. Further, I know that untold numbers of other parents have walked this lonely, shadowy road before, and that sustains me in my misery.
Writing about this helps. At least a little.
What a tragedy, Laird, in the fullest sense of the word. My heart goes out to you, Annie, Taivyn and Connor, and I'm sending deep condolences and lots of love
ReplyDeleteI'm so, so sorry to hear this Laird. Sending love to you and the whole family.
ReplyDeleteLaird, I am so terribly sorry. My heart is breaking for you and everyone who loves Ceilee. I am grateful I was able to meet him a few years ago and to have shared the experience of calling this land home, albeit at different times.
ReplyDeleteOops, the anonymous comment is from me
ReplyDeleteI'm so very sorry for your loss. I have only tender memories of Ceilee as a teenager, tai kwan do student, loving dad, entrepreneur and almost a son to Stan. Sending love to you as you navigate this tragedy.
ReplyDeleteSending love. -Elke
ReplyDeleteLaird and Ann,
ReplyDeleteMy heart goes out to you in your grieving.
I was lucky enough to see Cailee at Stan's memorial service.
love, Evan
Oh Laird, I'm so sorry to hear this. My own son (who came to Sandhill as a little baby) has struggled with addictions and mental health and it's such a quagmire to navigate for him and us and everyone. Rest well Ceilee, you were and are very loved. Big hugs to you and Ol' Ann and Jo and Ceilee's kids.
ReplyDeleteThis is Starling Dancing Rabbit/Jenny Amstutz sending love from Colorado.
ReplyDeleteI am so sad with this news. Yours must be at the edge of not being bearable. Know that your grief is the measure of your love for Ceilee. michael @ ganas
ReplyDeleteBetsy Ayers here, Laird… I only knew Ceilee as a kid - a quick-witted bright light full of promise. I know his road was not an easy one and I am heart- broken at his loss. Wishing you and Ann and the kids strength and love in your grief.
ReplyDeleteEmma and I are holding Ceilee and family in our hearts. Sending love and Dee condolences to you and Ann. My experience of Ceilee long ago is simply kindness and a keen intellect. May his name be a blessing. Jay Lotus
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely devastating. I'm so incredibly sorry to hear this. Holding you, Annie, Jo, and everyone who loved Ceilee in my heart.
ReplyDelete-Lindsey ex-Sandhill (now in Eureka Springs, AR)
You and your family will be in my thoughts. There are no adequate words to say in the face of the loss of a child. Take care of yourself and your loved ones.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry. My son died a year ago under similar circumstances. He had been ill for several years and refused to see a doctor, convinced he was getting better. He finally had agreed to go the emergency room but had a heart attack before Monday morning arrived. It may have been the result of long covid but we will never know. He was 53. It's very hard. My sympathies are with you.
ReplyDeleteMy heartfelt sympathy to you and your family. I think of trying to conquer drug addiction similar to trying to do rock climbing, using only one’s fingernails. It is so very hard to o climb out of the valley. My thoughts are with you.
ReplyDeleteDear Laird,
ReplyDeleteI am so sad to hear this and wish there was something I could say or do to ease your pain; a child's death is so out of order. They are supposed to outlive us. It is hard not to think about what we might have done to defeat death, but all we can do is keep living and loving -- then death shall have no dominion.
My deepest and most sincere condolences to you and your family. Chris H at Fair Oaks EcoHousing
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing with us on your blog. So sorry for your loss. Losing a child is so hard. I have lost a baby, I cannot imagine losing a full-on adult son. You have all my heartfelt sympathy.
ReplyDeleteI’m so very sorry for your devastating loss. The depth of your love will be reflected in the depth of your grief. My heart goes out to you and the rest of your son’s family. Elizabeth (Compass Cohousing)
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this tragic news with such authenticity and vulnerability, Laird. My mother died of alcoholism at age 47---when I was 21, and I've missed her all my life. I did not disclose the details of her demise for many years due to the misunderstanding and sigma linked to substance dependency. Speaking openly and with love about the circumstances of your loss brings dignity and kindness to Ceilee's story, your story and to every person linked within the story of addiction. My heart is with you.
ReplyDeleteHi Laird, what a sad turn of events. I am so sorry. My heart goes out to you.
ReplyDeleteSuzy here with Heartwood Commons -Tulsa. As a member of the enormous community who have learned so much from you in your workshops, I join with those who know you and your son and family so much more deeply to express my sincere sympathy. May you receive all the love and support you need on this new and unexpected journey. You are not alone. Your are surrounded by a vast community that loves you and your family deeply.
ReplyDeleteSusan from Ganas. So sorry to hear about this devastating loss. Sending live to you in this awful moment.
ReplyDeleteI'm not cruel. Dead is dead. Protect the living!
ReplyDeleteFor some diabolical reason, this dramatically increases the likelihood his children will be addicts.
Mary Gove here. Oh Laird, my heart goes out to you! To lose a son is so difficult. In my family, we have a lot of bi-polar disorder, this takes such a toll. I tried to be there for my parents who suffered so when my brother at age 48, was killed in a car accident, then his son who was diagnosed as bi-polar, young, with no insurance committed suicide. The grieving pain is excutiating. I only write this because I see the wisdom in your words: "Further, I know that untold numbers of other parents have walked this lonely, shadowy road before, and that sustains me in my misery."
ReplyDeleteSending you love,
Mary Gove
Dear Laird - my condolences to you and your family. I truly know the heart break you are all feeling. Our 33 year son died of alcoholism this past December. Like Ceilee, Ian was highly intelligent and gifted and described by friends as having a heart “as big as the sun.” Despite having good friends and a loving partner addiction won out. For the first few months we could barely function. Fortunately the love and support we received from family, friends, and community has helped a lot. Please be kind to yourselves and take the time to grieve in your own way. Another thing that has helped is to try to hold on to the good memories of your son. Take care!
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for this heartbreaking loss, Laird. Sending love to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteLaird, I just saw the email from Gigi with the link to your blog post. I am reeling from the news of this tragic loss and want to send my love to you, Ann, your families, friends and community members who knew and loved Ceilee. I treasure the times that I spent with Ceilee over many years. Dan and I are grateful that we were able to visit with him at Stan’s memorial at Sandhill. Add hugs from us to the huge bubble of love surrounding you as you journey with your grief and loss. Presente Ceilee! Your spirit dwells within our hearts.
ReplyDeleteDear Laird and Ann and all, Kale here from years ago. I, too, am stunned and saddened by learning the news from your blog that Glenn Mitroff forwarded to me. Having met you and Ceilee at Midwest Men's Festival in the late 1980's, then being welcomed into your gracious home with your chosen family at Sandhill Farm when Ceilee was very young, those fond memories have long been a comfort to me, knowing there was such kindness in the world which you and your family so actively demonstrated. It all seemed like an idyllic setting; the sharing, the genuineness, the generosity, the caring milieu where Ceilee and the other children were being raised. It is impossible to know the insidious ways in which adult addiction can take hold despite the loving surroundings that nurtured the child. My humble spirit sends gentle (((Hugs))) to each of you at this delicate time. I pray that the outpoured condolences and sincere support, as witnessed by the numerous previous messages from various facets of your current life, can sustain you through this "cloud of unknowing," all the way to a place of peace with what is, and onward to the promise of what is yet to come. Many Blessings, signed/ Kale kalefromchicago@yahoo.com
ReplyDeleteOh Laird. I had heard about Ceilee a few weeks ago, but am just seeing this blog post so want to share how devastating this must be for you and everyone who knew Ceilee. My strongest memory of him was interviewing him way back ~1990, which then became the opening of Follow The Dirt Road. It was so clear how much he took after his dad. I'm sending you lots of love in this time of loss. Do reach out if you need anything!
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