Jayden Derrick Parker

Jayden Derrick Parker, a deeply caring and feeling young man in the midst of a courageous self-discovery journey, died of a suicide on a warm June Tuesday in the South Eugene neighborhood where he lived with his grandparents.

Jayden was born in a Eugene hospital room overlooking the Dairy Queen on February 8, 2006, weeks ahead of his St. Patrick’s Day due date, laying the foundation for his love of sweet treats and lifelong tendency for doing things on his own timeline. 

As a child, Jayden had a strong competitive streak that showed up first in his carefully orchestrated matchbox car races, and later in hockey rinks, on basketball courts, and in Oregon Battle of the Books competitions. He was the class clown in elementary school, skilled at charming his way out of trouble when his antics got out of hand. He was a natural protector, quick to stand up for his siblings and friends when anyone other than him gave them a hard time. 

Jayden moved with his family to Portland when he was eight years old. He celebrated his 9th birthday in the hospital recovering from an appendicitis, the symptoms of which his parents initially ignored because they coincidentally developed while listening to Judy Blume’s Freckle Juice in which the main character has a false alarm appendicitis; Jayden had previously established a pattern for suddenly developing mysterious new symptoms from which he had miraculous recoveries.

Like many of his peers, Jayden was impacted by the disruption of COVID that shut everything down the spring of his 8th grade year. After restrictions were lifted, he struggled to reconnect with school, sports, and church. Shortly before his 17th birthday, Jayden had the self-awareness to recognize he’d started down a path he didn’t want to continue on and bravely sought a fresh start, moving in with relatives first in Seattle, and later, in Austin. 

Jayden made his way back to Eugene in January 2024 by way of an epic road trip with his mom that included a hotel haircut, Reese’s milkshakes, poignant reminiscing, countless episodes of The Office, a reflective walk along the Lake Shasta shoreline, and less NBA Youngboy songs and more Zach Bryan songs than expected. 

As the year progressed, Jayden earned his GED with honors, started working out at the YMCA, and began a welding program at Lane Community College where he entertained the idea of walking on to their basketball team. He returned to First Congregational Church, where he’d been baptized and attended Sunday school, finding sanctuary in the familiar spaces and faces.

Jayden’s most remarkable achievements aren’t ones that show up on report cards or game stat sheets, though he was a bright student and talented athlete. His most special achievements are connected to his relationships. During the last year of his life, Jayden worked so hard to heal and grow so that he could show up as his best self, whether as a brother or son, friend or boyfriend, cousin or grandson, nephew, uncle, or neighbor.

We remember Jayden’s playful trash talk while shooting hoops with his siblings, philosophical discussions while walking with his Papa, and helping hands in the kitchen with his Mima. We remember his peaceful gaze watching the sunrise from Rocky Butte with his girlfriend, passionate conversations ranging from deep and vulnerable to raunchy and ridiculous while gaming with his boys, and creative expressions of love and gratitude that he regularly shared with his mom through texts, songs, and videos.

Jayden is survived by his mother, Katie Cadigan; siblings, Jennifer, Kyreese, and Charlotte Rose Parker; grandparents Peter and Debbie Cadigan and Sam Parker; and many beloved aunts, uncles, and cousins. He was preceded in death by his grandmother, Roline Parker, and his father, Derrick Parker.

We miss Jayden so deeply and completely and welcome you to celebrate his life with us, details provided below.