Rest Easy, Ryder
Justin Ryder Kilgrow 9/7/74 - 3/28/11
Dearest friend, kindred spirit, this world is a
dimmer place without you in it.
This is more how I remember him, minus the moustache and the ink. He was just a kid when I met him on his 21st birthday in 1996. Anyone who knew him would say the same thing: there was just something about him.
I had just arrived at the Newport Beach, California treatment center the day before. I was embarking on my sober journey for the first time after 10 long, hard years on the streets of Hollywood. It was a totally new world to me. I had hit my bottom...and then hit it again...and again. And I was ready without reservations of any kind. Scared but ready.
It was my first co-ed AA meeting, my second AA meeting ever in my jaded 27 years. Everyone was standing out front chit chatting, and there he was, friendly and inviting with a welcoming smile and a devilish twinkle in his aquamarine eyes. We became instant friends. I felt I had found a kindred spirit in him. He was very patient and tolerant, extremely intelligent, very clever, funny, and uncanningly self-aware. And he was focused on his recovery, as was I.
He was an alcoholic then - although addiction is addiction, independent of the substance. He explained to me that he was a drinker of the hardcore type. I guess at that time, I didn't really understand what he meant by 'hardcore'. He was only just 21! He was from Salt Lake City, for Pete's sake! How 'hardcore' could he really be?!?!
At about 55 days into his sobriety, Ryder changed. He started hanging around with a different crowd, people who weren't so focused on their treatment and recovery. He still chatted with me, but we no longed shared long important conversations about self-discovery and solutions. He was friendly but distant. I had lost my best friend, my touchstone, my brother.
At 63 days, he relapsed. And then he was gone.
About 9 months later, as I exited the Alano club after a meeting, I saw him coming up the stairs as I went down them. I cannot explain how happy and relieved I was to see my dear dear friend back here, alive and okay. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. Within the week, he was hunting me down at the club, drunk as hell.
In those days, there was no question about sobriety for me. You were either sober, or you weren't. You were doing everything you could to maintain your sobriety, or you weren't. There was no middle ground. No trying. Trying got us nowhere. It wasn't until we took action that we actually effected changes in our lives. Basically, in my mind sobriety equalled life, while addiction meant death. No middle ground there either. So to see anyone loaded, especially my Ryder, was devastating. It was painful and I felt desperate and afraid. And now I knew what Ryder meant by 'hardcore'.
Ryder and I stayed the night at a friend's house one night. I sat with him while he drank himself out. I lay beside him on the floor as he slept, counting the minutes until the detox center in Stanton opened, and I could take him there. He had agreed to go, but when the time came, he may change his mind. This was one of the most awful nights of my litany of many awful nights. I watched my friend as he hovered between life and death.
He chose life!! The next morning came, and after waffling back and forth, back and forth, and after consuming enough alcohol to get him into the detox, I dropped him off. I visited his sober living house and made arrangements for him to return once he had detoxed. I had hope once again that my best friend would be okay, that he would be sober, and that he would live.
Shortly thereafter, I met a man and moved up here to Washington state. In that short time, I had the priviledge of spending time with Ryder, enjoying his scintillating wit, his amazing intelligence, his never-ending love for people, his hope, and the gift of his friendship.
It took me 13 1/2 years to find him again. We'd lost contact. My life was different, radically different since I left. But since the day I met him, Ryder was a fixture in my heart. He'd etched his own place in me, and there he would stay, never far from my thoughts. I met his uncle - he was a client where I worked (how weird is THAT?). I received vague updates from time to time. I learned he had had a son, that he wasn't doing very well. I searched viagra cialis online pharmacy pharmacy for more information, for a way to contact him, finding nothing more than arrest records. At least I knew he was alive.
Several months ago, I happened across him on Facebook. Oh glory!!!! Oh Thank God!!!! Here he was, my Ryder, my kindred spirit, my touchstone, and he was doing okay!
I never got to hear his voice. We emailed a couple of times, texted each other from time to time, always with the promise that "we will talk". I kind of knew we wouldn't. He was different. He told me briefly how his life had been, the heartbreak he'd suffered. He'd told me what he needed to, and he was done.
We never did get to talk. And now we never will.
Justin "Ryder" Kilgrow died on March 28th, 2011 of a heroin overdose on the floor of the bathroom in his sober living house. He leaves a legacy of unconditional love and many many friends behind. He was a man unlike any other. He was such a loving person, so kind and tolerant. But he was no match for the demons we faced, at one time together.
Sometimes I think that God chooses the most loved from amongst us addicts, the ones whose death will make the greatest impact on the largest number of people, and he takes them from us. Maybe by remembering Ryder (and Layne, and Jason, and Nicole, and...), we will be encouraged to continue making the right choices, we will continue to be sober. The loss of our most wonderful friends we will carry with us forever.
Ryder, my darling brother, my kin, I pray that you rest easy now. I pray that you are finally fulfilled and safe with your beloved mom and grandmas. I'm no longer sad for you, but my heart aches for your Elizabeth, your Tristen, your family, the others you've left behind.
God gave me the most wonderous gift - a tall, skinny young man with a warm welcoming grin and a devilish twinkle in his aquamarine eyes. You blessed me with your friendship, Ryder, and I miss you. I will forever be grateful to have had you in my life. My dear dear friend.
http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/deseretnews/obituary.aspx?n=ryder-kilgrow&pid=149890306
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100001511062866