In honor of Sean and in memory of his giant heart and bountiful laugh, I wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and a Happy New Year. May his memory bring you smiles and music, his everlasting gifts to us.
Love to you and your families,
Debbie (Glenn and all of Sean’s family)
I must admit that I am sadder than I ever could have imagined. If you notice my default picture, it’s Sean and Bridget in the kitchen. My fondest memories are of my whole family coming to holiday dinners. They have helped since they were young kids, and things often ended up like in this picture. Sean was the happiest when we had what he called an “extravaganza.” Without him and his “What’s hot Mama?” as he strolls into the kitchen, I don’t think I’ll have the drive to ever host the holidays again. Having my whole family here and taking care of them through one of my favorite things, food, created the best times of my life.
Well, I could say that I have little to be thankful for this year. And since my best companion, Rudy, passed suddenly this past Tuesday, the tears are flowing pretty freely. Nonetheless, there are things to be thankful for: my surviving family, my beautiful grandchildren, my other 11 yo puppy, my home, my husband and my memories of Sean. More relevantly to this blog, I have you, Sean’s friends to be thankful for. You will never know how much your kindness has helped me through this terrible time. You convey to me everyday that Sean loved and was/is loved. Keeping him close is so important to me, and you do that for me everyday, so thank you! You have given me reason to be thankful when I would never have believed I could. If I could, I would have all of you to dinner (and I’m a pretty good cook…)
From me, Glenn and on behalf of Sean:
Happy Thanksgiving!
Saturday was the fifteenth, and as you know, a sad monthly reminder. Much has happened in the 7 months that Sean has been gone from us. Sunday was the first board meeting of the Fund, and so I was busy preparing for a meeting and conference call that included 13 people from across the country, so I had no time to put my thoughts to “paper.” This past month, we (Sean’s family and friends) have been trying to put together a benefit concert in early 2009 to raise awareness of our cause and, of course, to raise money. I would like to address both of these issues…
First, awareness: the more I know about bipolar disorder and its co-morbidities, the more I am saddened by how little we know and how limited our interventions are. I am also more aware myself about its incidence; it is a lot more common than I ever knew. The only reason that I can fathom why it flies under the radar screen is embarrassment. I don’t think anyone wants to admit that their moods (or those of their loved ones) fluctuate so rapidly, and that ill-defined triggers make them do things they would never want to admit. Add to this the need to control these feelings, and one would have to admit addictions to whatever substance helps them feel in control. Imagine this: a disease that controls your emotions and causes you to act in unacceptable ways, prohibits you from sleeping, causes reckless behavior and addictions. There is no cure and treatment modalities are often unsuccessful, with side effects that crush the only thing about you that you are proud of: your creativity. It causes you to lash out at those you love the most, as you try to hold it together for others who would not understand. The vicious cycle of self-recrimination and sense of hopelessness must be overwhelming. Yet, we have yet to be able to “mainstream” this disorder like we have depression or alcoholism, and it is robbing us of the very souls who bring understanding of feelings to the rest of us through song, writing, art. We need to understand the origins and triggers of this disorder and find ways to help those who are trapped by their own genius. It is at the vey least in our own best interest.
About money: this is a subject that I basically abhor. If there were a way to live without it, I would be the first in line. I love what money can do to make life easier and prettier. I love sharing the benefits of having money with those I love (one reason why I often have none). I hate asking for it. I hate tracking it. I hate worrying about it. Nonetheless, without it, this fund, as its name implies would be impotent; thus, things like benefits are necessary and actually, also help with awareness. What I want to say is that I am so touched by the donations that have come in to the fund. I can tell they are heartfelt by the amounts: $20, $10 at a time, sometimes from the same person over and over. These are tough times, and parting with any amount is difficult. You need to know that regardless of the amount, each and every dollar helps and is being guarded carefully to be used as our mission states. I am determined to make a difference in Sean’s honor and memory and many of you have become my partners. I cannot thank you enough, and I appreciate every dollar, as Sean would. I treasure your generosity. Without it, the organization will not survive.
Finally, I would like to give you an update on the progress of the fund. We, as I said, have just had a very successful first board meeting, and our board members are very impressive. Most impressive of all, is how much they all love Sean. On Sunday, people gathered from all over the country for a conference call that lasted 2 hours. I was so touched by their willingness to give of their time and talent, for no real reward, that I have been crying off an on since. We are just a few weeks away from our 501c3 designation from the IRS, which enables employer matching, etc. This has been an arduous process and is a really big deal for fundraising and credibility. We are in the process of putting together a benefit with incredible talent…a testimony to Sean’s impact on icons of the industry. Most significantly to me, we have already recruited several renowned clinical researchers in the field of bipolar disorder. They include PhDs from Berkley, UNC Chapel Hill and Harvard, and their enthusiasm is palpable. It seems that they are looking for a way to bridge research and its application in the real world, and that is the purpose of the Fund. I am hoping to bring Sean’s dedication to translating the Blues to every audience to the fund’s mission of bringing interventions that are effective and affordable to those who need it most. What good would music be if it never had an audience? What good is knowledge if it cannot reach those in need?
I am so proud of Sean. This is a statement that could have been hard for me to make. I come from a family of perfectionists. There was no tolerance for mistakes, or less than the best. I tried not to place that burden on Sean or Bridget, as I have learned that it is unattainable and forever frustrating. I just asked them to be honest and to do their best. I did tell them if they had a talent and didn’t use it, it would be a sin. Whatever that talent was, and only to the best of their ability; there was no arbitrary goal. Sean set his sites high on his music and very low on doing the wash! I might cringe at the disorganization, but I accepted it, and told him that I might be able to keep my house neat, but I could never do what he did. So why would I not be proud? Because I judged myself on that standard of perfection: how could I be a good mother and have lost a son this way? Some part of me was embarrassed, and so I am not speaking disparagingly when I talk of the embarrassment of others. Some part of me was angry with Sean. How could he do this to his family? to himself? to me?
I have become humbled by Sean. There have been so many people who have written to me to tell me how he touched their lives, not just by his music, but by his very person. I always knew he was a talented musician (although he would be the first to tell you I know virtually nothing about music) ; but, often wondered about his adult life. Sean moved on his own when he was 19 and had his share of ups and downs, and he was never one to shield me from the details. He said it was because he loved me and treated me like a friend. I often wished he would treat me like most sons treat their mothers – keep them in the dark and pretend! He was never one to boast, if anything, Sean doubted how good or likable he was. Well, I was raised with 16 years of Catholic education and am driven by a very active conscience, but I cannot hold a candle to the spirit that Sean shared while he was on this earth. I am embarrassed for myself, that I would care about what others might think who didn’t know him or me, really. I now know what is more important- what people who knew him thought of him. My heart swells with such pride. Sean grappled with things that would have defeated a lesser person: social anxiety, panic attacks, low self-esteem, intelligence often beyond his emotional age, talent beyond his years, divorced parents, recurrent illness (both him and me), and a disorder that ate at him from the core. Yet, he accomplished more in 29 years than most do in a lifetime. What he earned that I am most proud of is the love and respect of people from around the world. Every day I am touched as he speaks to me through those who loved him. His love of life, his friends and his craft support me every day.
I guess the morals of this story are: I am still learning about Sean; Sean’s friends and fans are wonderful, as he always said they were (he was very proud of his friends and fellow musicians) ; Bipolar Disorder does not have to define a person as no disease has to; Life goes on despite heartbreaking sadness, but a person’s spirit lives on through the people they have touched and loved. Sean’s spirit is still alive to me through you and I will continue to work toward a better future for others who suffer as he did. I wish I could have done this for Sean, but he would have been embarrassed if I had tried. He has left this world with nothing to be embarrassed about.
I missed writing about the six month “anniversary” of Sean’s passing for several reasons. After I thought about it, though, it really isn’t an anniversary, since the word denotes an annual celebration, and this was neither. This 15th, Bridget was arriving to attend the wedding of her cousin in NC. Given that, I forbade myself to openly dwell on the wound that this date abrades. I decided that I needed to be happy to see Bridget, since that is an occasion to celebrate. Further, I needed to keep that perspective. I was going to the wedding of my goddaughter, who did not deserve a pall to be shed on her very special day. She is a sweet girl, almost 6 years junior to Sean, with a very deep sensitivity about his passing. While I am a person that wears my emotions on my face and expresses them openly through my mouth (two things that embarrassed the reserved nature that was Sean), I was determined to support a day of bliss and innocence that Sara deserved. They are so few, they are to be treasured.
I also find that while in life, I was Sean’s mother and therefore, mentor and teacher; in death, he is mine. At every turn, I think “how would Sean handle this?” “What would he say?” And the thing is, it was never about him. He always had an empathetic, if not sympathetic view of others. He rarely spoke about anyone, and if he were in a bad mood, he would isolate himself. I drank a dirty martini at 11 AM to get to where Sean would want me to be, and anyone who knows me knows that’s totally out of character (for me, that is !).
Anyone who has lost a loved one knows that they have lost a piece of themself. Honestly, anyone who has lost a child has a piece of them die, but that piece remains attached. They may shift that piece to one side or another. They may even be able to bury it for a short while, but the pain is always with them. All they hope for is some meaning to come of the death, the ability to get through each day, and the hope that their days will pass swiftly. These are their best hopes on their best days. Whatever innocence was left in their life is gone.
I had some good times this past week and a fun time with my family on Saturday. It was a blessing when I most needed it. I allowed myself to feel that blessing, albeit at times bittersweet, because it was the unselfish thing to do. I’m not saying that with hubris, just as a means of explanation. What purpose would it serve for those who love me if I showed my pain and made them share it with me? Especially my sister, whose daughter was the beautiful bride. And what of Bridget, who gets to see me maybe 2-3 times a year, and who has had a shitty year herself? Would she benefit from my openly crying about the hurt that sits beneath my breastbone, aching to split it open and let my heart pour out? Sounds dramatic, but this is how it feels.
Sean left a hole in this universe. He was able to combine talent with strength of character and a genuine love of living. How he could do that when he seemed to be able to channel the collective unconscious, at an age when experience could not have taught him these insights, and remain as humble and grateful as he was is a mystery to me. If I were to be truthful, I would admit that I missed most of Sean’s adult charism. He did not live at home, traveled a lot, and had experiences independent of me. In truth, I most often just worried about him, as I seemed to read his confusion and fatigue and sadness. I loved to hear him laugh when he did, as it helped dilute my fears, but they always clouded my vision of him. I did not approve of some of his coping, and with that judgment, missed what he so easily shared with others. If there is one positive outcome of his tragedy, it is my increasing awareness of his special spirit. I always told him that I wouldn’t be proud of him if he were famous but not a good person. I guess he took me seriously, even as he struggled and did make it to a level of notoriety that I will never attain. I always was proud of him, but my pride reaches new levels every day as my respect for him grows from feedback from all of you.
So, on this belated opportunity to remember the months that have passed, Sean has taught me much… the pupil becomes the teacher. I can hurt and yet laugh. I can put others’ needs before my own. Life is to be lived in the moment we are in. All that is seen does not reveal all that is. Life goes on, even when you can’t figure out how it could possibly, or why you would even care. We can find good in even the worst of times, and music is the medicine that can heal the soul.
Sean was there with me every minute that Bridget was here; every second of the wedding; and, every moment since. He never leaves me and I will never leave him.
Bridget went to the cemetery on the way to the airport today to plant spring bulbs and fall pansies. We cleaned up a bit as she cared for her brother and said goodbye for now. Allison had left a CD from the Labor Day benefit… she thought Sean should have one. I discovered today that someone took the CD, but left the cover. I have maintained a philosophy about things that have been stolen from me: I always hope that the person who took it needed it more than me and that some good came of it. It’s not necessarily about being a generous spirit. It’s about not allowing someone else’s behavior dictate mine. Also that things are just things. Today, I hope that the person who took the CD from Sean listens to the music and shares it with others. That would be what Sean would want. Heck, Sean would have given it to them anyway.
Sean, you have left an indelible mark on this earth and I hope to become the Mom that would make you proud and not embarrassed. You have given me the gift of so many good people who loved you and whom you love. I hope I will be able to have the strength to really celebrate you on the anniverary of your “Going Home.”
I thought I should start this bulletin with a reason to care about Bipolar Disorder; especially, why we should care if a celebrity suffers from the disorder. To see even the slightest impact of this disorder, please click on the following link. What you will see is that some of the best and brightest people in history have been determined to be bipolar. The beauty, the music, the business and political contributions they have given us are immeasurable.
http://www.realmentalhealth.com/bipolar/bipolar_celebs.asp?gclid=COWgpfaa8JUCFQEuxwod2Uh4eQ
Now just imagine what the world would have been like without them and their talents. Unfortunately, many very special people are lost to this disease before they are able to leave their unique mark on the world at large. Many, many times they are lost because of dependence on drugs and/or alcohol. This is why the number one priority needs to be early diagnosis and treatment.
Is Your Child Bipolar? by Mary Ann McDonnell & Janet Wozniak
{In this article I will be using the book Is Your Child Bipolar by Mary Ann McDonnell and Janet Wozniak as reference, and all quotes are from that source.}
Until recently, many clinicians did not believe that bipolar disorder existed in children. It wasn’t until around 1995 that it was shown that about “1% of all children have bipolar disorder,” which translates to over 750,000 children in the US alone. (p.3) According to the authors, about 80% of them are undiagnosed or misdiagnosed. Additionally, research has shown that a significant percentage of children suffer with depression, and often they develop bipolar disorder when they are adults. “This adds up to more than 3 million children in the United States with bipolar symptoms on any given day.” (p.3) While the authors acknowledge that the number of children being diagnosed is increasing, they cite two reasons: (1) the symptoms in children vary from those in adults, and so, children were misdiagnosed in the past (ADHD, oppositional defiant disorder, borderline personality disorder, incorrigible are all labels that have been used in error), and (2) the actual incidence is increasing for unknown reasons.
I thought it would be helpful to all of those parents who may read this to enumerate how parents describe having a child or teen with bipolar disorder:
• Each day is chaotic
• “Meltdown isn’t a strong enough word”
• Your partner tells you its your fault
• The child is fine at school, not at home
• They are “fixated on anything to do with sex”
• The behavior they exhibit in public makes it impossible to go anywhere
• ADHD medication makes symptoms worse
• Mood swings are affecting ability to have friends
• We are “walking on eggshells”
• “If I knew about early-onset bipolar disorder twenty-one years ago, maybe my son would be alive today.” [word for word from the book] (pp 5, 6)
If the symptoms of Bipolar Disorder are different in children from those in adults, what are they? Bipolar Disorder was once more commonly known as Manic-Depression. In children, however, mania is not manifested in what we would recognize as euphoria; rather, the main symptom in children is irritability. Their irritability can be in the form of rages (“destructive, violent, or other dangerous behaviors”), or, as depression (“whiny,” “difficult to please”). In both of these cases, the behaviors are not occasional or the kind of normal “fussiness,” but are “severe, intense and disruptive.” (pp 6, 7) Also, these symptoms do not have to be apparent in all situations; for example, kids can seem to be fine in school and lose it at home. The authors assert that children do not choose home to act out because there is a problem there; rather, that they are worn out from acting “normal” around their friends, only acting “crazy” where it is safe, and where others won’t see them.
Finally, there are several disorders that may accompany bipolar disorder in children to include: ADHD, anxiety and learning disorders. They call these “bipolar plus.” Often, it is one of these that presents in school and becomes the focus of treatment and intervention, while the more silent, or at least hidden disorder is not apparent to anyone but the family. It is my experience that this is true and leads to the frustration and guilt that are so common with parents of children with bipolar disorder. I have often described myself as being considered “neurotic” or someone with a form of Munchhausen’s by Proxy because Sean’s symptoms were not apparent to anyone outside of the home, while so obvious and worrisome to me. The kind of information in this book is powerful to parents, as information is power. With the information found in resources such as this text, I would have been better able to advocate for my child and not doubt my own intuition, in other words, to fight because I could define and describe what I was fighting.
In summary, Bipolar Disorder is caused by many things, including genetics; is an illness; can occur in children; is a brain disorder, not just bad behavior; is manifested by irritability, not euphoria; can vary with setting; varies from child to child depending on associated disorders and severity; while it may look like ADHD, treatment is not the same as ADHD; it is very tough on parents; and does not define who your child is. (pp. 11, 12)
In the next article, I will again use this reference to help someone decide if moody is a mood disorder. In the interim, other resources for parents include the Depression and Bipolar Disorder Support Alliance, S.T.E.P. Up for Kids, National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) and the Child and Adolescent Bipolar Foundation (CABF).
As an update on the Fund, we have applied for 501c3 designation and have had our first structured Steering Committee Meeting. We are hoping to have a Board meeting before the end of the year and an Atlanta Memorial Concert early 2009. Thanks to everyone who is hanging in there with us, especially those who have shown their support through financial and emotional outreach. Love is Amazing…
I had intended today to blog about Bipolar Disorder and early detection in children. However, it happens to be my daughter’s birthday and the sad anniversary of her brother’s passing. Only a very unkind twist of fate would associate two things with such opposing emotions.
Two members of my family had biopsies last week and my faithful companion and friend of 13 years, my dog, Rudy, has been diagnosed with a tumor and is not doing well. My grief is seeping through carefully placed defenses, and I am tired. I will try my best to get back to the cause I have committed myself to as soon as I can, but today I wouldn’t be able to find the words to either convey my feelings or to help anyone understand the nature of anything. I only know that I have loved both of my children from the moment I knew they were conceived and will until the day I die. They are beautiful souls and I am proud to be their mother. At this point, that’s all that I can say that I understand and know to be true.
Yesterday, WRFG and the Atlanta Blues Society held their Annual Blues and Barbeque Picnic, and chose Sean as their first honoree. It’s always a popular event, and despite clouds and looming rain, the house was packed. The ABS, WRFG and their sponsors did a phenomenal job with professionalism and heartfelt taste. Every detail was well thought out and something of which Sean, as a frequent performer, would have been proud and honored. Glenn and I couldn’t believe the attention and respect given to us and our family. One of the most innovative and special gifts they gave to us and the attendees was a compilation CD with many previously unrecorded, some live, tunes. Included as well, is an interview at WRFG when Sean was only 15, and his voice is so young, it can’t help but get to you.
I was offered the opportunity to speak, and to hear Sean tell the story, that could be a dangerous offer! Even though, in life, Sean was embarrassed of my tales of him, another mother, who has been very successful in her honoring of her late son, told me that I was compelled to speak, if I were to be successful in the mission of the Fund. Speak I did, after being totally humbled by a standing ovation complete with a dozen pink and white roses. Joined on stage by Glenn (looking like a beauty queen with the roses) and Mackinsey and Zach, Sean’s niece and nephew, I asked Sean to help me convey my message as well as he did his. Another ovation followed what seemed to be an eternity of hearing my own voice, but as wonderful as that was, so were the personal comments that I received after I escaped the stage. Person after person thanked me for sharing my story and putting a context to Sean’s passing that heretofore was not available to them. After the dedication, the amount of financial support and offers to help the Fund multiplied and we ended the day with so much love from people who loved Sean, and a very generous offering to the Fund.
We cannot thank the Atlanta Blues Society and WRFG enough for their kindness, nor the musicians who came to honor their friend. I know Sean was there with his trademark smile, proud to be a son of .. :namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn: schemas-microsoft-com: office: smarttags” />Atlanta.
To follow are a copy of my notes, complete with highlights I used to remember points I wanted to emphasize, minus humorous anecdotes about Sean (sorry, Sean, I couldn’t resist!)
“When I was given the opportunity to speak today, I had two fears: that I wouldn’t be able to talk without crying, or that, according to Sean, that I wouldn’t be able to stop talking….
I hope that I can channel Sean and be able to effectively share a message from my heart.
First, I want to THANK WRFG AND THE ATLANTA BLUES SOCIETY for such a wonderful tribute to Sean. They went to a lot of trouble and demonstrated a heartfelt love for Sean in compiling a CD that reflects almost 15 years of Sean’s music. They are, along with you today, REPRESENTING THE BEST OF THE COMMUNITY THAT SEAN LOVED AND CALLED HOME. I know he’s with us today and he’s very grateful, humble and proud.
SEAN LOVED THE BLUES. It reflected the fiber of his being. He started around age 9 with Guns n Roses, and progressed to Jimmy Hendrix. I don’t think we could have listened to another “Hey Joe.” But, around age 13, he met a wonderful bluesman, FELIX REYES, and the rest is history.
YOU know Sean as this gifted musician with an incredible energy on stage. You could literally witness his transformation as he seemed to channel his music from another world, or directly from his soul. What you witnessed was a part of his essence, his artistic expression of a soul that was sensitive, intelligent, and very unsettled. His stage persona was all the more mesmerizing because off stage he was so unassuming. YOU loved the musician. I love and knew the person who was destined to play music.
Sean was born an OLD SOUL as they say. Always bright and incredibly witty, he just seemed to see and feel emotions more than his peers [STORY OF SCHOOL TRIP] He aced tests while hating math, losing most of his homework, having the sloppiest desk and book bag in the class, and missing his share of school while he was often sick, needing to stay home just to regroup, and often because he felt he didn’t fit in.
Empirically, this self doubt made no sense. Neighbors would tell me he was popular in school. Kids of all ages would knock for him to come out to play with them. He would invent the scenario of the day: sometimes it might be Viet Nam (in full camouflage), other times, the Renaissance – and who knows what else – but always creative, always his mood/idea. He was cast in every play, from MLK in the 3rd grade, to a believable Ted Koppel in the 8th. Teachers loved him and he seemed to excel. He was sweet, well behaved and smart,
AT HOME, THOUGH, THERE WAS A DIFFERENT SEAN: easily frustrated, unable to sit to do homework or eat dinner, liking to be alone and often “blue.” This is the side he shared with me and I worried for him. The guitar was his constant companion, but so was insecurity, frequent illness and a lack of self-esteem.
On the other hand, HE WAS THE FAMILY ENTERTAINER, whether it was a Michael Jackson impersonation, a French accent, or just plain silliness, when Sean laughed, the world laughed. He was hysterical, as many of you know.
He loved his grandparents who were part of his daily life for years, especially my Dad, whom he resembled more than any other grandchild did in looks and personality. His picture stood on Sean’s mantle right next to BB King’s. He demonstrated a respect and compassion for his elders for his entire life. He adored his sisters. Whatever mood he was in, if Allison or Bridget walked into the room, his face would light up. His love for, and need for love from others was that genuine.
By the end of grade school, though, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep him in high school, so I searched for a school for right brained kids…the closest thing I could find was a Jazz band at what was then Northside HS, now North Atlanta, the performing arts school of Atlanta. Here, he wasn’t so different, and with the mentorship of Reggie Colbert, he thrived – the Louis Armstrong award, Seventeen Magazine, “Best Dressed” (too shy to get his picture taken). Here too, he excelled academically keeping up college prep and AP courses while maintaining a grueling schedule of weekend gigs in Memphis. He loved History and English. He became fluent in Spanish, skipping Spanish 2 going directly to 3 because his teacher thought his family was bilingual! I later found out, in Sean fashion, that he would take his Mexican friends to job interviews in his 64 Falcon and act as translator.
All during this time, from around age 12, I took Sean to counselors to help him with what I thought were depression and a genetic predisposition for alcohol dependency. He always came away with the same diagnosis: he’s wonderful, nice, bright, talented and self-aware. I came away looking neurotic and making Sean more and more uncomfortable with my fears.
I have been asked many times what it was like to have Sean, the prodigy, as a son. I could never truthfully answer because my response would have been too revealing and difficult to believe. I worried day and night, I worried and tried to help him find his way.
Recently, articles have been written about Sean’s death but they cannot ever capture the beauty and complexity of his life. They mention bipolar disorder, but don’t explain its dangers and how it contributed to Sean’s passing.
BIPOLAR DISORDER SIMPLY MEANS THAT A PERSON HAS BOUTS WITH BOTH DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY, BUT THEY LITERALLY GET STUCK IN THEM, CALLED “CYCLING.” People with Bipolar Disorder walk and talk like you and me. In fact, a percentage of us and/or our children have it whether we know it or not, an even larger percentage because of the number of musicians and artistic people represented here, and maybe even because we are drawn to the music called “Blues.”
IT TAKES, ON THE AVERAGE, 10 years and 7 psychiatrists before a person is accurately diagnosed. For Sean, it was about 15 years! It is frequently associated with creative genius like Mozart and Beethoven, Van Gogh, and Sean. (MoJo magazine called him an under recognized guitar genius.) During the span between onset and diagnosis, the mood swings, anxiety, inability, to sleep, propensity for risky behavior, take their toll and to survive, people self-medicate. The incidence of drug and alcohol abuse in this population is alarmingly high. Add to this equation, the life of a musician where the bar tab is part of the compensation plan the problem is exacerbated. When someone is horribly shy, has panic attacks, hasn’t slept well for days or even weeks, but needs to perform, the temptation to feel well enough to go on stage, to make a successful living, is overwhelming.
Sean took his craft seriously. He studied and became a music scholar who earned the respect of the likes of James Cotton, Hubert Sumlin, Jodie Williams, Levon Helm and the friendship of the Grammy award winning producer of the likes of the Rolling Stones and Coldplay, Steve Rosenthal. Despite this recognition, it was never about him. He paid his band members more than he could afford in order to help them. He always saw their situation as needier than his. He mourned each one of them when they needed to leave the band and remained friends with each of them. The days leading up to his passing were fraught with emotional disappointment, medical complications, and an overriding fear that this CD, too, wouldn’t be enough to afford him the life of an independent adult. He never took our help for granted and wanted to be able to stand alone.
Most of you know none of this because Sean was professional and responsible at all times. I was always proud of his emotional courage. He wouldn’t want his legacy to be tabloid exploitations of a mistake he made in private. He would want it to be his music and his love of life.
I am asking you to remember his music, but I am asking more than that. I am asking for support for the Fund started in his name, sot that NOT ONE OTHER INNOCENT, WONDERFUL GIFTED person’s life be cut so short. This disease is deadly, with an alarming rate of early death due to suicide or accidental overdose…just to stop feeling, just for a second. [Note: Sean's death has been ruled accidental as anyone who loved Sean already knew. ]
Recent reviews lament that sean was the messenger that could have taken the blues to a place of mass appeal and appreciation. That was his goal – his life journey. He never got a chance to complete this dream. That and to be normal, with a home and a family. That was my dream for him. [Ray Hangen, his former drummer recently told me that Sean would say: "My Mom knows what I want." ]
If you love Sean’s music, or any music for that matter, I ask that you take our mission seriously. Musicians often don’t have health insurance and have a difficult life just to be able to express what is in their nature to do. They give us a great gift, even while people pirate their work and begrudge tips or covers. Where else can you get someone’s work for free and take it with you wherever you go to make you feel better? If you want to avenge Sean’s unnecessary early leave from us, as I do, I ask you to be generous and creative in your support, as well as kind and understanding of others who suffer in silence as he did. It would be what Sean would do for you and did do for others.
Thank you for being here today and for all that you have done for Sean, me and my family and again, THANK YOU TO WRFG AND THE ATLANTA BLUES SOCIETY. Sean’s light keeps on shining in my mind, day and night, it just keeps shining all the time…”
Four Months Have Passed
Four months have passed… hardly anytime and yet an eternity. When I think of Sean at four months old, I remember a chubby, happy baby who was doted on by everyone, especially since he was the first boy and oldest grandchild on one side. Everything he did seemed miraculous. Sitting up, smiling, every move was a new experience for him and me. I never realized that I could love anyone this way. I had an amazing job for my age, and yet I couldn’t return to work. Leaving him with strangers was out of the question. When the kids at the day cares I looked at cried, I cried. So, I quit my job and stayed home. Every day seemed bright and wonderful. There was no baby more adorable or more loved in the world. I was never happier. I was a Mom to an exceptionally beautiful and sweet boy. It was all I ever dreamed of.
During those four months, each day was a gift that brought something new. These past four months have moved in slow motion, but I am still learning about Sean. I have learned that his love of life and music and people was so strong that it reached across the country and the ocean and back. I have learned that although I watched him with great care and attention, there was much I did not know. I didn’t know how many people he had become close to. I did not know how many phone numbers he had programmed into his phone! First and foremost, I did not know the extent and seriousness of his illness.
Sean had an incredible ability to act, pretend. He used this talent at an early age to do a very realistic Martin Luther King in the third grade. He was cast in every class play, often in comic roles, as he was always naturally very funny. The biggest and best role he ever played, though, was himself. He convinced doctors and counselors and friends and fans that he was ok. He didn’t convince me, and for that reason, we clashed at times, especially this past year. I was his Mom and I knew how badly he felt; however, I didn’t know how much of that was due to this insidious illness called Bipolar Disorder.
When Sean passed, one of my first thoughts was that no one should ever suffer the way he did and die so young because of this disease. It is apparently difficult to diagnose and even trickier to treat. I had given Sean information on it and hoped he would read about it. I sincerely believe that knowledge is power. What I didn’t take into consideration is that when your brain isn’t giving you accurate information, knowledge is difficult to obtain. In the case of BPD, the simple act of recognizing a person’s intention via their facial expression is difficult. No wonder so many who suffer also have social anxiety disorder. Several neurotransmitters are involved in this brain malfunction, and so depression, anxiety and ADHD may be present as well.
Sean was brilliant. Anyone who knew him knew that he absorbed objective information like a sponge. His reading material consisted of authors that would challenge Literature and Philosophy majors. There wasn’t a nuance of Blues history that he didn’t know. Let him listen to a song once, and he could lay down the most innovative and appropriate guitar ever. However, give him something that required negotiation and he would freeze. He was always asking me if something was wrong, if I were mad, and he was convinced that most people in the business end of music didn’t like him… not at all true.
I gave him the responsibility of learning about his challenge because I had no choice. He was a grown man who lived on his own. The mental health system will only treat those who enter it voluntarily unless they are a threat to themselves or others. Sean never exhibited such a threat. At least not to them. The potential threat to me was there, but Sean didn’t even see it. So there is the rub. In order to function, Sean had to pretend that he was ok and do what he needed to do to feel ok. Many, many visits to healthcare professionals later, he was disbelieving of their ability to help him with depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He was old enough to make up his own mind, but dependent on things to survive that altered his own ability to judge. This is not the same as a heart attack or arthritis or even cancer. The brain is the source of the problem and the responsible party for understanding and recovery, at least in an adult. In a high functionning adult, like Sean, the symptoms are not readily visible and correct diagnosis and treatment are elusive.
At first, I was unable to read about BPD, as all I could feel was guilt. Why didn’t I know more? Why didn’t I seek more specialized help? This thought process is circular though and leads to nothing worthwhile. I cannot change what was, and I know that I tried the best that I knew how. The problem was that Sean was diagnosed as an adult and he presented as an exceptional one at that. How distracting his talent was! So handsome and charming and kind and talented and successful, and to a large extent reflective of the musician community. Who would have known how little he slept or how much he doubted himself? Too many people enjoyed him for too many reasons to look much beyond his adorable face and fascinating performances.
In order to have some good come of Sean’s fate (so much good came of Sean’s life that it can not be the end of the story), I must be able to get past this self-indulgence. I am currently reading a book called “Is Your Child Bipolar?” donated to me by Sean’s friend, Rachel. It is my contention that there are signs early in a person’s life that point to certain biological traits, be they physical or emotional. Take a toddler who loves to throw a ball… when he shows interest in sports, we are not surprised. When a child cries inordinately, or doesn’t pass through normal stages of development, this, too, portends future tendencies. When a child asks for a fiddle at age two (as Sean did), chances are a string instrument is in his future!
I am going to try to learn about the early warning signs of BPD, so that when a Mom goes into a doctor’s office with worries about her child, she will be armed with information to illustrate her fears. When something is diagnosed early, effectiveness of treatment and subsequent outcomes are improved exponentially. My hope is that future blogs will, of course, still carry memories of Sean, but additionally, introduce current information on Bipolar Disorder. If only one person reading that information has the ammunition needed to get the right help in enough time to prevent Sean’s tragedy, then the effort is not in vain. I invite all of you to add to my writings with anecdotes or information. We all benefit from dialogue.
Sean is a perfet poster “boy” for discussion of mental health issues. Every family has them; yet, few families will talk about them. There is a misconception that people who suffer from mental health diseases are different, odd. They are not. The look like you and me and Sean. They act like really nice and thoughtful and sometimes very happy people like Sean. They are handsome and successful like Sean, and they suffer in silence like Sean.
Much can be said about the complication of being a musician and the whole music scene. It is definitely harder to make and keep doctors’ appointments; to maintain good sleep habits; and, to stay sober. What fun is it to be in a room of people who are drinking and laughing if you don’t drink? Their jokes just aren’t as funny, and your schedule is just that much more greuling. This is a whole other story. First, we have to identify who is at risk for serious problems in this milieu, and hopefully, decrease their risk with early intervention.
It may very well be that the same genetic code that causes the mood swings and anxiety and sleeplessness is the one that breeds genius and a prolific career. There is definitely research that links the two; however, it would be a failure on the part of society to let the best and brightest, those who bring us the most joy, pass through this world so quickly. There is so much more that they have to offer, and we them. We research cancer and heart disease and other physical disorders and have advanced immeasurably in our knowledge and care. Mental health is seriously lagging behind. Even health care benefit plans discriminate between mental health and physical health coverage. Why? If you have a brain tumor and your symptoms mimic mental illness, you are covered. It is the same organ that is malfunctionning in BPD. As I heard once, no 4 year old says ” I want to grow up to be an alcoholic or a drug addict.” Somehow, we still think these are failures of willpower. I can assure you they are not. They are perhaps a reflection of lack of hope and definitely are victims of lack of understanding and knowledge.
Sean was tough and bright and generous and resilient. I will try to adopt these qualities as I continue on without his physical presence and I will attempt to get going with the goals I established in his honor. It is the least I can do to reflect the courage and initiative and creativity that he showed. I love Sean more now than I did when he was four months old, if that is even possible, and I think I will grow to love him more with everything I learn about the battle that he fought most of his life. That he brought such beauty to the world in the face of such inner turmoil is amazing. Again, I must say without prejudice, Sean is amazing.
I feel compelled to write this message to Sean’s friends and fans. Although he did not pen the song, “Love is Amazing” was always one of my favorites. Maybe because it had such a positive message, or maybe because Sean swayed and smiled when he performed it. Whatever the reason, it plays in my head over and over.
For me, love has been amazing. Of course, as Sean’s Mom, I loved him with my heart and soul and thought he was amazing from the day he was born. I knew he was sweet and kind and basically, a gentle soul; although, he was every bit human to his family. We saw his weaknesses and knew his flaws. Sometimes, I was so worried and overcome with concern about them, I think I missed the effect Sean was having on his world.
In almost 4 months, I have had so many messages from people, strangers really, trying to convey to me the kindness of Sean. I have become overwhelmed at times. Sonia Leigh inviting Glenn and me to Smith’s Old Bar and quieting the crowd to dedicate the song she wrote in memory of Sean. Ray and Gabrielle Hangen putting us up in their home and sponsoring a wonderful day filled with love for Sean and his memory. Jon Liebman calling Glenn at least twice a week to make sure he’s ok. Rachel traveling from Connecticut on a train for 14 hours to honor Sean, and sending me books to help the Fund’s cause. Sarah Baker and Tom Hyslop volunteering to help with chronicling Sean. Kelli and Donald inviting me and Glenn to go out with them and Kelli sending me kind wishes all of the time. Melissa, someone who only met Sean once, communicating her concern for me and memory of Sean at least weekly. Marta, who has designed and maintains the Fund MySpace page among many, many other things, not to mention being my primary support for the first two months. Magic Fred calling Glenn to keep in touch. Melissa Bauer volunteering her time and talent. Julie planting a garden in his name and never forgetting to send me kind words, and too many others to mention. All of these people were infected with the magic of Sean so much so that they need to share it with me. His love and music affected them in a way that I never knew. These wonderful people have reached out to me and Glenn because of Sean. We never would have known them otherwise. You cannot know how much that touches me and honors me as Sean’s Mom.
So you see, Love is Amazing. Sean loved his music and those who loved it with him. I had no idea how much he reached out to others and how unselfish he really was. He never told anyone if he did something thoughtful or kind. It was just the way you were supposed to be. He didn’t speak unkindly of others, even if they hurt him badly. He would wonder what he had done to provoke them or let them down. (He did tease and use a lot of satire, I must admit.) Of course, with me, it was a different story. I got to see the sad or angry or disappointed Sean. I was his Mom and I was supposed to see all of this (which, by the way, he informed me was the way it was supposed to be:)
So, in this time of incalculable loss and sorrow, love brings me joy. It’s just amazing. Sean has left me and Glenn with a cadre of people who are taking care of us. People we have never done anything for, just people Sean loved and who loved him. I wanted to let every single person who has ever taken the time to write to me and ask to be my friend know that I am honored to be your friend. I am blessed to have you in my life and thankful that Sean brought you to me. He would be so humbled and grateful to each of you.
I cannot explain the loss of my son. How it has affected every member of our family and how it has left a gaping hole in our hearts. Sean was truly a character and there is no one to fill his space (although his nephew, Zach, is a character in a making. He thinks “Uncle Sean rocks and has cool clothes.” With his blonde hair and brown eyes that twinkle with mischief, I remember the boy in Sean. It was always there.) Yet, I know that I am not alone in my suffering. So many of you have been willing to share your own struggles and heartaches. In many ways, MySpace has become my own counseling service. It seems that suffering is a common thread that is permanently woven into the fabric of our being once experienced. For many others, the loss of a loved one remains a lonely journey as they are forgotten by everyone but you and your family. I am lucky that Sean was my son (of course, I always felt that way. I would not have traded him for gold or my own health and told him so many times), and in being my son, he has given me the blessing of each of you.
Love is Amazing.
I wish all of you the love you have shared with me and the semblance of peace you have given me. I have an amazing son who had amazing friends. (Sean performing Love is Amazing is on Utube and was on his fund page)
PS Sean would mourn the passing of Bernie Mac. I just needed to mention this because he loved his comedy. Sean loved comedy and often the more honest, direct and raw, the better. Of course, he did love silly comedy as well, such as Curb Your Enthusiasm. A large part of Sean’s being was laughing and being ridiculous. Bernie Mac was, himself, too young to die. I am hoping that Sean and he meet in heaven and are laughing together. I think they would get along famously.
“The joy of a spirit is the measure of its power.” (Ninon de Lencios)
There was no more joyful spirit than Sean, and thus, the power he holds over us when all we have left of him is spirit. It is a challenge; the biggest one I’ll ever face, ie to be joyful when my spitit feels so lost and confused. There is one thing I do know: Sean would not want us to be sad. He spent his life laughing whenever he could and using whatever means he had to, to get to the place where he could laugh again. It may have taken its toll, but to him, sad was not a place he wanted to stay, nor would he want to leave us there.
When Sean was little, he got frustrated easily, so I read him The Little Engine That Could over and over. “I think I can.” “I think I can.” I used to tell him that can’t meant won’t. Well, he has taught me a few things along the way. He has shown me that indeed he could. He could do anything he put his mind to. To have accomplished so much without being related to musicians in any way and without compromising his art is amazing. “Love is Amazing” is one of the songs that Sean sang that I have always loved the most. He never recorded it, yet he did it so beautifully that I wonder why it never made the cut. “It’s me for you, you for me, together we can do anything we want to do….” I know he felt that way when he was well. He loved his band members and believed they could do anything, And, from what I hear and read, when you played with him, you felt the same way.
The numbness of Sean’s leaving me is wearing off and I am tempted to give up “If you leave me, I will surely, surely, surely die.” Sean had so many ups and downs in his career, and many unlucky breaks, but he didn’t give up. He didn’t die. He kept on trying. How many musicians have held a band together for 10 years at his age, while being band leader, lead musician, creative force and driver of the van: )? A Handy nomination, gold record, major publication cover, etc, etc. and at all times, Sean was the driving force. He never gave up. When a key band member stranded him in Las Vegas one week before his CD release party, he came home, put a band together, did a radio show on Tuesday and a TV show on Friday, and showed up for that release party and played his heart out one week later, with rented equipment! He was crushed and hurt and confused and disappointed, but he didn’t quit. More importantly, I still heard him laugh. Maybe he was down and out inside, but he never let it interfere with his job, passion, his responsibility. He was nothing if not responsible.
He taught me that you can love many people and help almost everyone who seeks your help, and never tell a soul. Never brag about your accomplishments, or how many people you loved and loved you. It is such a personal matter and just so much a part of the fiber of your being that there is no need for accolades or self-promotion. He didn’t even think about it. He just was.
He taught me that family isn’t always your own blood; it can just as well be whomever you choose it to be. For him, it was the musicians and fans that became the center of his life and purpose; although, his love of family was always the center of his heart and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He always wanted Glenn and me to come to his shows, and if he were in another town, he loved when other family members came.
Most importantly, he taught me that one can smile even when they are hurting. Sean’s laughter is notorious among those who knew him, and his smile is iconic. We didn’t always know how much he was hurting, but instead of basking in his pain, trying to bring others down because he was, he found a way to laugh. This has to be the epitome of unselfishness. Sean largely hid his pain to not bring others down with him, sometimes masking his own urgent need of love and support and direction.
So, you see, I am challenged once again by Sean. (He always did challenge me and the status quo!) I want to cry and be sad and let everyone know how sad I am. How can I not be? He left me so I feel that I will “surely, surely, surely die.” But I can’t/won’t. It is not the legacy he has left nor the path he would accept for me or anyone who loved him. He had more courage and spirit than anyone that I have ever known. Given a different set of circumstances, he would be here today playing his heart out and showing us his infamous smile. He would want each of us to do the same in his memory. Sadness is not the legacy he has left us. Kindness is. Generosity is. Forgiveness is. Trying to be better and better is. No Half-Steppin’ is: “I’ve got to keep on going everyday.”
I have been able to listen to a few of Sean’s songs just recently. When I listen to them, I can see his facial expression and the stance with each and every phrase of the song. It’s a gift to me, that I can see and hear him as if he were still here. I am blessed with all of the people he loved and who loved him that have been willing to share that love with me. I am blessed with the memories of an adorable and sweet child who always had just a little devil in him, just enough to make me laugh, ok sometimes, be angry. I am blessed with his sisters and Glenn who each have their own memories of this increible being. I just don’t know if I am blessed with his resilience, the ability to keep on going, to sing when no on is listening, to smile when hurting. This is the challenge that I now must face. To channel Sean. To laugh even though I’m down. To produce even when I’m exhausted. To love even when I would be justifiably angry.
I’m ninety days into my new role and I’m not sure that I have the stuff to make it as far as Sean did in his world. But, I will try because he did, and that’s what he would want me to do. Because he left me with “a light that keeps on shining.”…. I think I can. I think I can……
His spirit is so powerful, it can only be meant to bring us joy.
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