Andrew Louis Sicard
August 2, 1963-July 8, 2025

When he was little, Andy’s mother, father, or older siblings would rock him to sleep, singing a French lullaby which roughly translated to “Sleep, sleep, go to sleep, close your pretty eyes and sleep…”

Andrew Sicard closed his pretty eyes a final time on Tuesday, July 8, 2025. He was comfortably at home in his favorite chair, SF Giants blanket draped over his lap, one of his favorite sisters was by his side, and Jimmy Buffett songs played softly in the background, a peaceful, perfect passing.

Eureka-native Andrew Louis Sicard came into this world August 2, 1963—the sixth child of Robert Maurice Sicard, Sr. and Rita Joan Miller Sicard. He was blessed with the gift of four older sisters and one older brother who gruffly tried to balance out the sister effect. Andy’s childhood days were filled with Henderson Center-adjacent activities. He and his buddies explored the endless physics lessons of wheeled vehicles vs. Buhne Hill, or they’d run up to Larry’s Liquor Store to stare at the scandalous jungle adventure and gun magazines on the lowest shelf, and sometimes steal the redeemable coupons out of Good Housekeeping magazine to cash in at Cannam’s Market for Lemonheads. His G.I. Joe action figure dioramas, usually displayed about waist-level as you entered the back door were a constant source of entertainment, although a few tableaus featuring disheveled Barbie did alarm his mother.

Andy’s dad, a rabid L.A.Dodger’s fan (for which he has still not been forgiven by at least two of his children) taught Andy how a good catcher signals his pitcher so he wouldn’t shake him off. He taught him how, if you could master a split-finger fastball, you could throw any pitch with confidence. Andrew’s love of baseball stayed with him his entire life—playing, watching, cheering.

He was friendly in an immediate way, and you knew it was safe to return his friendship. He was never known to manipulate any situation to benefit himself more and anyone else less. His young world was an even playing field, and if anyone stumbled, he would be right there, brushing them off and giving them a hand up.

He was proud, but never boastful. He was handsome but rarely vain (except maybe about his hair.) He was athletic but only for the joy he brought to the game and the joy he gleaned from Being on the Team. His Eureka High School years cemented friendships and crushes that endured for decades. His teen-age self was described as “every guy wanted to be his friend and every girl wanted to date him.” Andrew’s curiosity took him on some early adventures,: Commercial fishing in Alaska, Club Med and Martinique with the boys, road trips, hunting expeditions, and many late-night escapades to which we were not privy. Then one night, a happy celebration with his best buddies ended unjustly in a horrific auto accident, which altered his life’s trajectory in a most cruel fashion.

The outlook was dire. Hope against hope, Andy’s family and friends took shifts at the hospital, nudging him back to consciousness. Kramers, Rotherhams, Emil, Patty Sue, David, and so, so many others. And they stayed close through the years of rehabilitation, counseling, surgeries, all the highs and lows. Andy’s family, friends, and acquaintances rallied around him, and that sustained him, then healed him. Then welcomed him home—the broken boy who learned to walk and talk and care for himself again. Then fully live the best life he could.

Living independently near his childhood home, Andy befriended and was befriended by neighbors, passers-by, meter readers, dog catchers, mail and delivery persons and maybe more than one surprised Jehovah Witness who converted to Andyism after an hour in his company.

Andy’s not-so-secret power was his ability to find joy. Every. Single. Day. Not even the traumatic brain injury that ended the life he had hoped for could fully extinguish his spark of joy. His life was filled with friendships old and new. He loved dining out and many local restauranteurs and bartenders were always happy to see him. He welcomed his nephews and nieces, and the children of his friends, as part of his inner circle, although inner circle is a misnomer because Andy’s circle radiated outward and outward to include all those on the periphery of his orbit.

His ratio of joy vs. despair was tipped again by a diagnosis of cancer. “Oh, thank God,” he would say, “I was worried it was my gall bladder. But it’s just cancer.” Typically, he used humor as a shield. He vowed to fight, and win.

Sisters, friends, neighbors (with a capital N) again found themselves in shifts, assisting and nudging Andy along this new path. Through every chemo treatment, every MRI, every invasive test, every excruciating waiting period to get the next results and prognosis, Andy managed to find joy. Out in the Waiting Room you could hear peals of laughter pouring out of Oncology, or Hematology or Imaging. Technicians, nurses, physicians, all belly laughing and Andy in the midst of it.

His dreams were deferred; his hopes unmet, Andrew found a way to live as fully as he could. His deepest sadness would have decimated a lesser man; a lesser human. But Andrew is-was a Force of Nature. And a Force of Nurture. And a Force all his own. And we got to be part it.

Andy was preceded in death by his parents Robert M. Sicard, Sr. and Rita J. Sicard, and his brother Robert M. Sicard, Jr. and both sets of grandparents. He is survived by his sisters Teresa Porter (John) of Benbow, Ca; Jeanine Sicard-Ross (Pat Blair) of Petersburg, AK; Suzanne Sicard (Tim Wing) of Ferndale, Ca; Monique Sicard-Johnston of Eureka, CA., brother-in-law Chris Johnston; nieces Annalia Porter and Leah Johnston; nephews Tyler Henderson, Samuel Henderson, Drew Ross, Adam Johnston, and Luke Sicard; grandnieces Chloe White Henderson and Sophie Henderson, and grandnephew Remy Ross; and numerous cousins on both coasts.

Our deepest appreciation and admiration are extended to Brian and Jennifer Nolen, the Kavich Family, Sue and John, Lynn, Cindy and Carli, Providence and Santa Rosa Oncology teams, and all of Andy’s loving friends who stayed close all these years, especially the FOFB.*

On Saturday, August 2, 2025, the family invites friends and loved ones to celebrate the life of Andy at his birthday party to be held at the Adorni Center on the waterfront in Eureka, CA. The family will be arriving via the Madaket after a private ceremony at sea at approximately 1:30 p.m. but join us anytime between 1:00-4:00 p.m. Hors d’oeuvres, beverages and music will be provided. Bring your best Andy stories. We suggest that your party attire include S. F. Giants gear and/or Parrothead florals.

Donations in Andrew’s name can be made to the Humboldt Maritime Museum, Hospice of Humboldt, or the charity of your choice.

Andy had been an avid diver in his youth, and he spent enough time on the ocean to heed the words of the esteemed American poet/philosopher James William Buffett:

Bubbles up.
They will point you towards home
No matter how deep or how far you roam
They will show you the surface
The plot and the purpose
So, when the journey gets long
Just know that you are loved
There’s a light up above
And joy, there is always enough
Bubbles up.

*Friends of Fat Bastard

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