Andy’s Birthday

Today is Andy’s 40th birthday, October 25th. At first, we wanted to throw him a surprise party with all his friends, but we remembered he doesn’t like attention and probably would be upset. But, he does love animals and likes to travel, so we arranged a family trip to Tanzania to see the great migration. We’re going to see it from one of those army-type trucks they always have in the movies. He’s really excited to see the elephants.

He got time off from his job, and we came from all over to meet up in New York a few days before the trip. He loves basketball, so we got Knicks tickets for last night’s game and had dinner at one of his college-days bars. The dinner and game were great; it was so much fun to see him laughing with his brother. Andy ordered his favorite sandwich, and the Knicks lost to the Heat (his favorite team). After the game, we went to a club to see a comic who was in an old Seinfeld episode. It reminded me of when Andy and I took the “Seinfeld Bus Tour” in the city and saw all the filming locations. We’re going to celebrate his birthday tonight on the plane somewhere over the Atlantic. Right now, it’s about 7 a.m.; the plane leaves at noon – but none of us will be on it. I just remembered. Andy’s dead.

 

Dear Andy,

I will always grieve for you—my son who cut his life so short. Where would you be? What would you be doing? Who would you be? Married? Kids? I’ll never know. I’m so sad.

You would have done so much with your life. Such a bright future, you had it all – except what social anxiety took from you. It took your self-confidence and your spirit. You fought it and the depression it brought for so long. I am overwhelmed with grief but know you are at peace.

Happy Birthday Andy.

I love you,
Dad

 

P.S. You’d be so proud of the work your foundation has done over the last 9 years. It has helped those who struggle with social anxiety every day of their lives: those who desperately want normal lives, lives not ruled by unrelenting self-consciousness and the endless fear of judgement. But, there is hope and help. We encourage everyone to understand the nature of this insidious illness and implore all who think it may be affecting their lives to seek counseling. There is a cure, and your life can be changed forever.