I remember the day we came to see your house for the first time. It was warm and sunny, and we spent the afternoon between the local park and the pub. I had such a positive feeling about it.
Moving day came, and that evening we had some friends round to warm the house. The owner had left a pile of old documents; I was flicking through them when I came across your death certificates. I still wonder why these papers had been included with the deeds to the house. Was someone trying to warn us?
The same surname. The same date of death. This house. Five years prior. I know enough about the death certification process, and the vague terminology on the coroner’s report to establish that this was probably a joint suicide.
A swift internet search found the news reports of your deaths and, indeed, “no third-party involvement was suspected”. A cold shiver went through me. What did this mean? What was wrong with this house? Haunted at best, cursed if we were less fortunate.
I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I went back to the papers. I found out you had bought this house in 1967; you had lived in it for 46 years.
Suicide in general, but particularly for the elderly, is a complicated and controversial topic. As young liberals we make blase comments about heading to Switzerland as soon as dementia hits – and yet, my first instinct on learning what had gone on in our new home was to pack up and run, inheriting what I saw as your shame and fear. How could these bricks and mortar ever forget the tragedy of your death?
But the evening went on; we even toasted you. Gradually, I was able to lay your ghosts to rest.
A lapsed Catholic, I don’t have much time for spirituality these days. However, that night I went into every room in the house and felt your presence. By accepting what had occurred, I was able to make peace with you and with the house.
The paperwork I have about your life makes me think you don’t have any family, but I feel that we have a connection. I am happy to bring life back into the home you lived in for nearly half a century, and I hope that you two are also now at peace.
• In the UK, Samaritans can be contacted on 166 123 or email jo@samaritans.org. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international suicide helplines can be found at www.befrienders.org.
