Goodbye, Roger

     2 years ago, I wrote here about a client named Roger. When he visited me that day in mid January 2016 he had recently put his dog Milo to sleep after a rather sudden and horrible illness was diagnosed. The vet had told Roger that this was really his only choice. You may recall that Roger had told me that as he held Milo in his lap while he died, that he had wished the vet would have put the rest of what was in the syringe in him.
     This morning I learned that Roger killed himself. He died maybe 2 weeks ago, but they just found his body. I had told you that Roger's partner of 25 years, Jane, had died several years before we first met. He had not recovered from her loss. Milo had given him strength for some time. We had talked over the last two years about a business venture he wanted to try and about him forming a better relationship with Jane's son. Now I know that the questions about protecting his assets and adding beneficiaries were not born from necessary estate planning from an overly-prepared and physically fit man in his mid sixties thinking about the future. He knew his future, and he was putting all  his ducks in a row.
     I do wish that he and I would have had the sort of relationship where he might have mentioned his intentions, although I know full well that there is precious little I could have done to stop him. It is trite and simple to say that suicide is never the answer, and it's always darkest before the dawn, and there's so much to live for and don't be so selfish ... but these statements are the sort that assholes make, and I try really hard not to be an ass.
     But I would have said, Roger, my friend, how can I help you? Would you let me get you some help? Make some phone calls? Can we get a cup of coffee and you can talk about what's going on, what you're thinking about. Please let me help you. For Jane. For Milo. To think that he lay there alone in his home, his last breaths unheard, his last thoughts unvoiced. He's not going to ever come into my office again and say, hey kiddo, with that crooked grin.
     I've never been very good at saying good-bye.

     If you or someone you love or care for or know in passing is in crisis, I urge you to keep the National Suicide Prevention Hotline in your phone. It's available 24 hours. 1.800.273.8255
They also have a online chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/