Bacon Fixes Everything

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.