Archives for September 2023

“Life is what happens when you’re making other plans” – John Lennon

When Evan was 12, he started taking piano lessons from Katy at the local music store. Katy was a sweet young woman, and the three of us immediately clicked. She was a phenomenal teacher, and very patient with Evan, who was (is) quite a talker–and asks a lot of questions. “Why are some keys white and some black? Why does hitting the key make a sound? Why can’t we learn Evanescence songs instead of practicing chords?” Et al.

Evan’s practicing echoed throughout the entire house–unfortunately the piano resided in the living room, where our family spent most of our time–and I then was questioning my decision about these lessons.

I was very happy with Katy’s teaching style. Evan’s prowess grew by leaps and bounds. However, I hadn’t taken into account that our piano echoed throughout our house. It was one thing when I played it, and completely another when Evan did.

A Facebook post from that time:

Me: Evan, Why won’t you practice the piano?

Evan: Because every time I do, you and Kyle yell, “SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Ultimately, more than ten years later, Evan is not able to play Row, Row, Row Your Boat–but is able to play the left hand bass part to Evanescence’s “Call Me When You’re Sober.” I’ll take it.

But this isn’t about Evan. It’s about Katy.

Katy recently was in a car accident that has rendered her unable to walk. We are praying that this is only a temporary disability. Katy is a wonderful person who is loved by many. She is brave, optimistic, and a fighter.

So. It just so happened that at the time of the accident, I’d been feeling sorry for myself. A pity party of the most gargantuan proportions. Something had happened that had completely upended my plans for the future. The way I saw it, my hopes, dreams, and plans for the rest of my life had been crushed.

Then I heard about the terrible accident.

The music community, and the community at large, wrapped their arms around Katy, with much love, tributes, and benefit concerts. Many knew Katy personally—but many did not. It didn’t matter. At gigs, musicians and audience members proudly wore T-shirts emblazoned with “Katy Strong.” And Katy is, indeed, Strong.

This caused me to step back and consider: Are my problems really so bad? If this had happened to me, how would I handle it? Here I was focusing only on myself, when I should have been grateful for what I still had, and appreciating others.

I concluded that rather than focusing on my troubles, I needed to focus on my support network–my family and friends; focus on having a positive impact on others’ lives; and focus on ways to be resilient when facing life’s challenges. It’s really all on me. Katy’s positive outlook reminded me of that.

“Life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% how you react to it” — Charles Swindoll

Please send positive vibes to Katy, who is an inspiration to all. To contribute to Katy’s recovery, please click here. Love you, Katy!

At the store, I scan through the “Sympathy” greeting cards. None of the messages seem quite appropriate for my friend’s family.

Then I come across a misplaced card that said:

BACON FIXES EVERYTHING

I burst out laughing. My friend would have, too.

And couldn’t help but think: Does bacon fix everything? Is it that simple? Are we just taking Life all too seriously?

I struggle with my friend’s death. I search for answers.

Maybe I could have saved his life?

Opening up our last Facebook Messenger conversation, I read it over and over again, searching for clues.

I had given him some ideas on how to feel better…based on my own experience of feeling down at times…and my last words to him were, “Don’t worry. It’ll be OK.”

Now that this has happened…they seem such trivial words.

I spend an inordinate amount of time playing out scenarios in my head where I wrote him back and said something meaningful. Offered to have coffee with him.

Maybe I could have saved his life?

I scroll back through his Facebook page. I am taken aback to see that leading up to his death, he had a series of posts along the theme of “life is hopeless.” If I had only seen them.

Maybe I could have saved his life?

I see now that back then I had even “Liked” one of the memes he posted toward the end:

“Three stages of life:

1. Birth

2. What the f— is this?

3. Death”

In and of itself, I’d agreed with that post at the time, so I’d “Liked” it. But I hadn’t seen all the other downer posts that preceded it. If I had, I’d like to think that I would have sent him a private message asking if he was OK.

Maybe I could have saved his life?

I went to his memorial celebration. A photo slide show played on a big screen. His urn was front and center. I watched the photo montage with other attendees. The photos reminded me of so many good times together. He loved sports cars, and photos of his many speeding tickets were featured. It called to mind the time we went 140mph across “The Flats”…only to catch some gravel and do 360s in the road until we stalled out. All the louvres on the Camaro’s back window had flown off from the force. Ahh, good times.

The crowd eventually dispersed, and I was left alone with the photos—and the urn.

I placed my hand on the urn as I watched the photos play, over and over.

I thought to myself, what is my friend doing in this urn. How is this even a thing.

I kissed the urn, and said goodbye to my old friend.

And told him how sorry I was that I didn’t save his life.

Later, after speaking with his family, I learned that they had tried to get him medical help many times. They tried and tried, and nothing ever worked.

The thought that my help or my words would have prevented this, was perhaps ludicrous. Who was I to believe that I could save anyone’s life? For all I know, an attempted intervention on my part would have accelerated the outcome.

Sometimes, bacon…or loved ones…or friends…or anyone…can’t fix anything, I guess.

Clinical depression is a brain disorder. Sometimes treatment doesn’t work and you have to keep trying new meds, over and over.

So maybe I couldn’t have saved my friend. But of course that doesn’t mean we all shouldn’t try when we sense someone in need.

A number of sources indicate that nearly 25% of those who end their lives make the decision within 20 minutes of acting upon it…and another 25% decide within FIVE minutes.

September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. If you or someone you know is in an emergency, please call 988, or The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255), or call 911 immediately.

The official NFL football season starts tonight! Yay!

It makes me think back to my first game, when I was 23. The Bills. My friend Rich invited me. He’d won tickets at work.

“Jane, the game’s at 1pm, but we have to go extra early for the tailgate party,” he advised me. “Be ready to leave the house at 9am.”

I had never been to an NFL game. I’d heard of tailgate parties and was excited to be part of one. Buffalo was only an hour away…but hey, if I needed to be there early I would DO IT! SO PSYCHED!

“So we’ll need to buy some beer,” Rich added. “We’ll need to get hotdogs and hamburgers, too. I have a small charcoal grill we can cook on.”

I nodded, and went along with it. Told him I’d get the beer. Which would be much easier than getting all that other stuff.

But what was he talking about? Isn’t a tailgate party where fans follow each other superclose around the massive Orchard Park parking lot? You know, “tailgating” each other.

And I was confident I could tailgate with the best of them. Put any vehicle in front of me, and I will get so close to it you can barely slip a piece of paper between us.

What was all this about beer and food?

And I’m just now finding out now that we have to tailgate while we’re drunk, and also figure out how to grill our food while we are driving? How is that even a thing?

Well, I thought to myself…if that is the true meaning of a tailgate party, I’m sure glad we’re taking HIS car and not mine!