She approached him, stopping a few steps short of his position, and watched as his cry turned to uncontrollable sobbing as his body shook with convulsions. His head was now in his hands, his mind in turmoil as he realized the irreversible mistake that he had almost made.

She sat down next to him, put her arm around him in a motherly fashion, and allowed him to drop his head onto her shoulder. As he stopped sobbing, he looked at her, and for the first time, he realized that she was much older than he was, with a face that time had etched with strength and tenderness. She looked at him and waited for him to open up and tell her what it was that caused him to seek suicide as a way out.

He got up, seemed to look into the distance, and hesitantly at first, started relating his story of despair — utter despair as he put it. It was not based on just the present situation. His dilemma was a chain of events that was birthed way back in his youth. He was born fourth in a brood of seven siblings, three boys and four girls. Life at home was always a battle, and both his parents had to work to eke out a somewhat fairly decent living for them as a family. His dad, Roland Clayton, worked at the rail yard as a mechanical fitter, and his mom, Ethel, was a machinist at a clothing factory. In his formative years, despite the basic needs of supporting such a large family, they managed to do so. He viewed this period of their lives as a happy one.

Over time, their situation moved from bad to worse. Bills began piling up each passing month. His father started drinking as a means of trying to escape reality. He watched his dear mother struggle to cope, as his father’s alcoholism left them with very little money. His drained but determined mother now had three jobs: a daytime job, an evening shift at the local supermarket as a packer, and her work at home, cleaning and preparing meals for her family. His three older sisters helped as best they could by splitting some of their mother’s duties among them. The boys played their part by scrubbing floors after school and assisting their sisters with the washing and ironing.

Their circumstances became unbearable, so one evening when they were all at home, Ethel gave Roland an ultimatum in her words: “Stop your alcohol dependency and play your part in supporting this family instead of destroying it. You have a responsibility to me and the kids. Honour your marital vows or leave. Turn left and come right. Your drinking saps away the money badly needed for the upkeep of this home.” He remembered those words as if they were said yesterday. They were etched into his memory because of his father’s response. Instead of admitting his guilt, he turned on Ethel, his eyes not only bloodshot by the alcohol but by the bout of anger that he succumbed to. She did not expect the punches he threw at her and tried raising her arms in defence. Toby and his brothers sprang into action to stop their father from further abuse of his wife. He struck them as well, all the while cursing. They, by sheer numbers, were able to overpower him, and only when his anger subsided did they step back. They stood as a protective wall for their mother, making it quite clear that any further attempt to harm her would be met with physical resistance.

Roland, looking around at all their faces, saw that he was no longer welcome in the house. He returned the following day to collect all his belongings and, to the joy of all, was never seen again. They later found that he had moved to another town where he stayed with his family.

Toby went on and said that that day he made a mental promise to himself: “When I get married and have children, every effort of mine will be to work to support them and to give them the best that I can.” He held true to that promise until the past couple of months. He had lost his job. He was unable to find employment. He watched as the bank balance dwindled away despite his wife’s every effort to preserve their ‘small fortune.’

As his sobbing subsided, he said to his ‘saviour’ in a barely audible tone, “I came here today to end my life because I was no longer able to watch my family suffer.” He continued with the chain of events that led to her intervention. She listened attentively until the the series of events that led their paths to cross, with her eyes brimming with tears, and tiny rivulets running down her face, she uttered, “Young man, I feel your pain, but there is absolutely no reason for any person — man, woman, or child, you included — to take their own life.” As he looked at her, she continued, “We all have our problems, our personal demons to face. By skirting the problem, running away from it, or even as you had intended, by ending it all, it just is not the answer.” 

By this time, he had settled into a slightly more peaceful mode and began listening intently to what she was relating to him. “My name is Joan Kane, née Blaze. I’m a nurse by profession and very passionate about nature and my hobby -hiking.” She continued, “My story is different, but with some similarities in it. I was an only child and had wonderful parents, who I lost at the age of ten.” Looking at her, he enquired as to how. To which she replied, “In a car accident.” It was a lovely sunny Saturday when she accompanied her parents to visit her maternal grandparents. They had not been to visit for some time, and that fateful morning decided to make the two-hour drive. Later that day, the weather started to change, and a violent storm broke out. They said their goodbyes, promising to visit again, and started their trip home, knowing that the highway was a fairly notorious one with a high accident rating. About an hour into the return trip, the storm increased in intensity, visibility was greatly reduced, and even though my dad drove at a reduced speed, concentrating on the road ahead, he was unprepared for what happened next. An oncoming vehicle careered over the centre of the road heading directly at them. There was no way of avoiding the accident. I woke up in the hospital and was greeted by a nurse who informed me I had been in a coma for two days. I was informed, I suffered a slight concussion and some physical trauma, but luckily, no internal organ damage or fractures. As my mind adjusted to my surroundings, I remembered the crash and immediately enquired if my parents were okay. I was told to relax and rest, and that the doctor would be in soon, and he would answer my questions. I was sedated and only woke up the following day. I realized that I was still in the hospital and seeing my grandparents, my mind jumped to her question about my parents. The doctor, who was in attendance, allowed my grandmother to step up to the bed. As my grandmother hugged me, she noticed the tears in my eyes and my trembling lips as she greeted me. As they told me about my parents, it was merely confirmation of what I’d suspected. A high-pitched scream of pain emanated from my throat, and my body went into a state of convulsion as the shock, the accompanying pain, and the emotional stress exploded in my small frame. I was given another sedative injection, and as I slipped into an induced sleep, the doctor had everyone vacate the room. They continued to check in on me until I woke up. My grandparents stayed at the hospital and were ushered into my room. As they came to my bedside, my immediate response was to hug them tightly as I could and began sobbing again.”

Much of what Joan related to him was the things she remembered and what she had been informed about after that traumatic experience. Looking at her, he could see the pain etched into her as she recounted that fateful event. He somehow sensed that it had become a turning point in her life. She continued recounting her life story: “I was kept in hospital for one week for observations. They needed to establish my fitness physically, mentally, and emotionally to be discharged. My grandparents picked me up and took me to my parents’ home where they planned to stay with me for the next month. The funeral arrangements were delayed until I got out of hospital. It was a quiet affair held mid-week at the Congregational Church, where her parents were members. They had been cremated, and the ashes interred in the church’s wall of remembrance.”

Joan continued to relate her life story, explaining how that period was made more painful because everything familiar was being cut away as if by surgical procedure. Her family home was sold not long after it was placed on the market. A few years later, when she had completed her schooling and was preparing for college, she discovered the money from the sale of the house had been put into a trust for her. She would be able to access this upon turning twenty-one.
Arrangements were made for her to attend a school near her grandparents’ home, as she would be staying with them. One ray of hope, if it could be called that, was that it was early in the year. This gave her a chance to readjust to the new school, her fellow pupils, the new teaching staff, and the curriculum. She had always been a bright, bubbly child, but the loss was still fresh, and she changed from being an extrovert into an introvert. Some of the kids had heard about her traumatic experience and tried to befriend her, but she wasn’t ready to make new friends. Soon, it became apparent to everyone—pupils and teachers alike—to leave her to work through her situation at her own pace.

Going to church on Sundays with her grandparents was also something she tried to avoid. Due to her love for them, she did attend, her mind in turmoil as the question kept rolling through her mind: “God, why did you allow me to live and only cause my parents to lose their lives, or, why didn’t you allow them to survive like I did?” This line of questioning was never verbalized but always in her thoughts, and continued for a long while. It only stopped the day she heard a sermon preached from the Book of Romans where the Apostle Paul penned these words: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose.” The pastor, in his expository preaching, related a couple of stories about how “all things”—including the hard, difficult, painful, and stressful things we endure—ultimately result in God’s glory and our human fulfillment of joy, peace, and contentment. To “seal the deal,” so to speak, he concluded with the story of Joseph from the Old Testament: how his brothers, through envy, had sold him into slavery. Joseph ended up in a dungeon in Egypt, was released after many years, served Pharaoh as the Vizier of Egypt, and eventually was the “saviour” of his brothers and their families. Relating this part of her story caused Toby to smile as he recalled the story of Joseph, which was one of the popular stories preached in the Bible.

Joan continued, “After completing my studies, I was successful in my application for a trainee nurse position at the Saint John the Divine Hospital in town. By this time, my healing process had advanced to the stage where I was now comfortable in venturing out, making friends, and attending functions such as parties, dances, and the movies. My grandparents were grateful that, over the past few years, the painful experience started to recede, and I was again becoming that pleasant, happy-go-lucky, joyful person I used to be, always ready to joke and laugh. At one of the parties I was invited to, I met a young man, Gary Kane, whom I took a liking to instantly. According to Gary, he says he was just as smitten by me,” she smiled proudly. “After our introduction, we had our first serious discussion. He asked me if I had a steady boyfriend. I kept him in suspense by taking a long time to reply. I said no softly and asked in return if he had a girlfriend. His immediate response was “many, but merely friends!” He went on to explain that he was not romantically involved with anyone. With a mischievous smile playing across his face, he asked if I would be his girlfriend. With a bit of a giggle, I exclaimed, YES!”

With a sparkle in her eye, Joan continued, “We danced. No, floated together as a couple; it wasn’t long before they seemed to be caught up in our own world. Friends looked on and smiled as it was now quite evident that Cupid had shot his love arrow through their hearts. That night before departing with our respective friends, we exchanged cell phone numbers, promising to keep in touch and make arrangements for future encounters. Ours was a whirlwind romance that grew by leaps and bounds. He was two years older than I. After completing school, he joined his father in his business as planned. It was a very successful travel agency called Kane Enterprises, catering to the public, arranging flights and cruises for various destinations around the globe. He came over to meet my grandparents. I, in turn, visited his house to meet his parents. Both our families met with approval. A year later, just after I was given full nurse status, we got engaged, and a wedding date was set for the following year, two weeks into the December holidays. That very year, tragedy struck again. My grandfather was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and he lost the fight to survive. He died just three months before the wedding. At my grandmother’s insistence, we proceeded with the wedding arrangements. The wedding itself went off without a hitch, and as planned, or arranged as a wedding gift by my in-laws, we flew off to Mauritius for our honeymoon, spending Christmas and New Year’s Day “partying” with the friendly islanders. It was idyllic and a wonderful experience, but my granddad’s loss was always at the periphery of her mind. Gary was very sensitive to this, and those moments he sensed I needed some quiet time, he allotted me that space and time. We returned home and settled into married life in the two-bedroom flat we jointly purchased.”

Joan had purposely gone into detail to give her life account up to this point. From her nursing experience, she had learned that she needed to do most of the talking to keep him from being too occupied with his current psychological, mental, and emotional state. While she spoke, she realized that her approach had worked as he was now calmer but also attentive to her words.

If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health challenges, thoughts of self-harm, or overwhelming despair, please contact your local emergency or crisis line.