Suicide. It’s not just another walk in the park. For example, one has to decide if he indeed truly wants to shuffle off this mortal coil. Then if one deems the answer is yes, he will then have to decide how he’s going shuffle off this mortal coil. There is also the matter of one having to choose a specific location where he wants to be found after shuffling off this mortal coil. Note or no note? This must obviously be thought of before shuffling off this mortal coil. And lastly, as in the case of my friend Phil, one has to choose what he will be wearing while shuffling off this mortal coil. There is a lot to think about when shuffling off this mortal coil.

Phil had meticously planned his death right down to the new fur parents for his beloved poodles Lucy and Ethel. I had worked with Phil for many years and he always seemed to be in good spirits and never called in sick. Not even when he had the flu. I don’t know how he made it through that week and how the other seven employees including me never caught the virus. Phil was a tall red headed man in his late thirties who had a long time partner named Brett. The two lovers shared a quaint cottage in the artsy section of town and always seemed quietly happy whenever I would see them at office parties or occasional group dinners. The long time relationship between them had fallen into the categories of contentment and familiarity as many long time relationships will do. I did wonder though if they were still in love after 15 years of togetherness but never talked that intimately with Phil. I wish I had . Maybe I could have been there to tell him no one is worth shuffling off this mortal coil for by your own hand.

It was a Wednesday. I walked into work shaking the wet off my hair from the morning’s rain. I hung up my raincoat on the communal coat rack and went to my desk. What seemed like a second later, our boss Michael walked solemnly into the center of the room . He was crying. His hands shook. As my coworkers and I sat silently waiting for him to speak , we all looked at each other as if to telepathically ask “ Do you know what happened?’ Michael began to speak so softly we all had to scoot our chairs closer to hear his words. "I just got off the phone with Brett; Phil’s partner. Phil has...( Michael crying harder now) passed away.” It was then that I looked around and realized Phil wasn’t amognst us. No one said a word. It didn’t register with any of us for a minute. " What?” said Sheila the office secretary, " What do you mean Phil has passed away?” Michael blew his nose into a tissue and still speaking softly proceeded to tell us what Brett had shared on the phone. Brett had found him and the bottle of prescription sleeping pills. It wasn’t until after the funeral that we discovered why Phil chose to end his life. Brett had ended their relationship a month prior as he had fallen in love with a younger guy and was moving in with him. The mask of contentment Phil and Brett wore had disguised the unhappiness between them. Devasted, Phil pleaded with Brett to please stay and to try and work on their relationship. Brett agreed to stay for three weeks to give Phil time to find a roomate to share expenses with, but for Brett , the relationship was unsalvageable. During those three weeks Phil never told anyone in the office what was happening. He seemed quieter, but not grief stricken. We saw no signs. Brett said Phil had left a note for his parents and another letter with instructions where to bring Lucy and Ethel as the new owners were waiting for them ( Phil had told the new fur parents he was being transferred to a new location for work and couldn’t bring the girls). Brett had found his long time lover laying down on top of the comforter so as not to mess up the bed with a peaceful look on his face and his hands folded on top of his stomach. Phil had chosen to wear a pair of purple silk pajamas that Brett had never seen before but Phil told me once purple was his favorite color as he said it complimented his red hair. I cried for several weeks both in the office and in the solitude of my apartment crying for a missed chance to hug Phil and try to show him he is seen. He is needed. And he is still loved.

My coworkers and I lost communication with Brett shortly after Phil’s death. I think it was too hard for Brett to see us. But I think about him and Phil even after all these years have passed by. I think of Phil especially when I see white poodles or watch a rerun of “ I Love Lucy” ; Phil’s favorite show. I never felt angry with Phil after his death. I felt angry with myself. I shared this feeling with my therapist in a session shortly after Phil’s death. My therapist nodded and said grief is not linear. It will come and it will go . Grief will climb up and then slide down in your body. And especially when dealing with a loved ones’ suicide the question always remains “ Why didn’t I see the signs? Maybe I could have said something; done something. " As my therapist reminded me that day in his office , grief is not just another walk in the park.