Andrew Alastair Lerner

There are three of us describing Andrew: his sister Talia, his mother Nora, and his father Jeff.

Jeff - I loved my son and I admired him. He was smarter, far more social and much better looking than me. His sociability was built in large part on the kindness that was evident to everyone. It's a quality that can't be faked and was never obscured. It emanated from strength: he was not a person who would back away from his beliefs. I saw him as a person with the potential for greatness, and someone who had already achieved being a truly good person. His involvement with drugs distorted his ability to calculate personal risk and benefit.

Talia - Andrew always seemed fearless to me. I was the shy one and he was the one who could go anywhere to make friends. When we were young especially, he always seemed full of energy and joy. He forged his own path through life, often feeling like the black sheep in our primarily introverted family. I feel sorrowful that perhaps he never felt entirely accepted by us, but I admired that he thought differently. He was so smart and fun to debate. He added immensely to our family and I would not be the person I am today without him.

Nora – He was everything Jeff and Talia said, but I want to add that he was a dreamer, whose emotions ran deep. Often that showed in his immersion in fictional other worlds. When he was young, he and I and Talia played early role-playing games together – Lands of Lore, Betrayal at Krondor. We read the Harry Potter series and the Narnia books together – Andrew refused to finish The Last Battle because it was too upsetting. Drawing from the poem Daedalus, by Alastair Reid (our friend and Andrew’s namesake), my son had birds in his head.  
 

Jeff - I love thinking about Andrew with Talia. I remember, as a little boy, his asking at a party for a balloon for his sister because she was too shy to ask. It's a very small incident, but characteristic and not inconsequential in remembering him in context and across time.

Talia - I have a number of favorite memories. Some from our childhood include me dressing him up as a girl, or convincing him I could fart on command. Some from his college years - I remember driving home from Connecticut with him playing music and catching up. And some from our adult time together - I remember a hike on Thanksgiving when I was first pregnant with my first child. I told him I thought I might be pregnant, but to save the surprise for our parents at Christmas.

Nora – He added so much fun to our lives; some specific instances I remember include introducing us to South Park on a vacation, or (in Montana) urging me to order a ring made out of small gemstones we had panned for ourselves in a national park. I also want to add that it meant a lot to me when he said spontaneously that he would name a daughter Hanna for my mother. He loved his Granny. I am so sad that will never happen. 
 

Jeff - I will miss our longest hikes, some lasting for six or eight hours in a day of beautiful settings. They were joint meditations and conversations, aided by exertion and challenge.

Talia - I loved watching Andrew begin to get to know my son, Callan (5). Callan loved to walk with Andrew and always wanted to walk his dog with him. I can imagine the relationship Andrew would have had with Callan as Callan grew up. Andrew never met my daughter, Lilah, who was born in November. I can't exactly miss their relationship, since it never happened, but I mourn the loss of what could have been.

Nora – I will miss our terrific four-way discussions, around dinner tables and on hikes and just hanging out. I think our last time together as just a foursome, without others, was at Christmas 2017, which we spent in Denver. We had such a good time together as our nuclear family. Andrew arranged for us to do an Escape Room (another example of introducing fun to our family) and took us to see Red Rocks. 
 

Jeff - I believe Andrew would want to be remembered the way he is being remembered on his Facebook page. He wanted to play a part in other people's lives and he did. The posts so frequently mention his kindness, his intelligence, his humor, and his engagement in people's lives. 
 
Talia - I feel the same as my Dad - that Andrew would like to be remembered as all his friends are remembering him: as a kind and loyal friend, who brought joy to other people's lives. Andrew worried that he wasn't good enough. I wish he could see all the messages communicating just how good and how worthy of love he was.

Nora – And I agree with Jeff and Talia. Andrew was a remarkable person who grew, despite difficulties, into a richly-nuanced adult. A life interrupted.