I knew I lived in an exceptional community, but in the wake of a recent tragedy, I have come to know just how special this community of ours is. On October 24, I lost my dear son, Declan Carlson. He celebrated his 18th birthday less than a week before, and having gone to bed happy that Friday night, he never awoke, due to a fatal seizure. A seizure condition marked Declan’s past, but he had been symptom-free for three years. We hoped he had grown out of the seizures, as can often happen.

Within hours of this shocking event, neighbors reached out, bringing us lunch and dinner and thermoses of coffee. A day later a friend set up a meal-train online. People brought us sustaining, love filled dinners each night. This kept me and my longtime partner, Jenny Dow, fed for close to a month, and made our difficult days bearable. Not just close friends cooked those lovely meals. People who didn’t really know us, or only knew Declan, were moved to help. You helped more than you can know. 

When moving to Camden 12 years ago, I hoped the small town would afford opportunities for my young son. And so it did. Not only did this community provide first-rate schools, but Declan enjoyed wide ranging and enriching experiences, such as sailing at the yacht club, filmmaking at the Farnsworth and Maine Media Workshops, Little League basketball and baseball, cruising aboard the schooner Harvey Gamage on an “Ocean Classroom” program, and pursuing his passion for television production through an internship at VStv.

Declan was ensconced in a close-knit community of people who care about each other, and look out for each other. Most significant for him were the wonderful friendships he enjoyed, particularly with his most intimate circle, his rock of Gibraltar, from his first days in kindergarten, to the last days of his short life. Few are lucky to have such friends and Declan was blessed with many. 

On Nov. 1, a memorial was held in celebration of Declan. No parent ever wants to attend an event of this nature in honor of a lost child, but somehow this most painful of days managed to be both beautiful and healing.

So many contributed considerable time and their talents in expressing their love and gratitude for Declan.

It was a memorial befitting my son, and filled with humor and warmth. My family and I were deeply touched by all the exceptional young people who, in the face of their own grief, so courageously honored their friend with their heartfelt words and musical offerings. A special thanks to Piet Lammert, who officiated the ceremony and did so much to pull it together.

Sadly, my family and I were excluded from writing the obituary. I would like to take the opportunity to say a few things about my son. It was heartbreaking for me to watch my son pack up belongings in a couple of tote bags in preparation for his weekly changeover from one parent’s house to the other, and I wish it had not been his experience of childhood.

Despite the difficulties he faced for many years of navigating a two-household existence, he always maintained his sense of humor. I am so proud of him for being so gentle and noble, and for how he always strove to consider everyone’s feelings.

He was a friend to the underdog, with a strong moral compass. Like his heroes from the comedy world, he turned to humor in times of difficulty. I love him and I am humbled by his example and sensitivity.

Declan was excited about college and going out into the world. It is tragic that instead, we had to mark his exit from this world. One of the most tangible and touching ways in which Declan was honored was conceived by our friend Amy Jenner, who provided hundreds of daffodil bulbs and encouraged people to write their thoughts or prayers on slips of yellow paper. These were wrapped around the bulbs, and with the help of more friends, were then planted.

In the Spring, look for the sunny heads of these daffodils in front of our house and in front of the Anderson Inn at Quarry Hill, where Declan’s “Granny”, Mary Carlson lives, and where he worked as a waiter in the dining room. When you see these bright emblems of hope and renewal, please think of Declan.

Finally, I want to express my deep gratitude to my partner Jenny Dow. Jenny was a steady and nurturing presence in Declan’s life for nearly the last half of it. She frequently made personal sacrifices out of her love for Declan and her sense of responsibility toward him. She saw in my often quiet and shy son much talent and potential and she lovingly encouraged him to undertake projects which supported and nurtured his interests, expanded his horizons, and grew his confidence. Many of the experiences which helped forge Declan’s self-identity were things which Jenny had a big hand in making possible for him.

With eternal gratitude to all the members of this community who collectively did so much to make Declan’s life, albeit too brief, one which was filled with richness and joy.

— Jonathan Carlson