My father ended his life almost 15 years ago now. Today, I went to the place he left us from. 

Boscastle, Cornwall is where he drove to early September 2009. He left his car in the car park and walked up to the cliff edge. There, I can’t imagine what went through his head as he tied his hands behind his back and jumped onto the rocks and into the sea. What were his final thoughts? Were they painful or peaceful? I will never know and perhaps it is unhelpful to try to guess. They were his private thoughts and maybe they should be respected as such.

His body was washed up on the beach and found by a dog walker on what would have been his 57th birthday. The sight must have been horrific for that dog walker. To find a body, battered and waterlogged with no explanation and no chance to help the soul that used to inhabit it. To this person, I am sorry you had to see that and I hope it doesn’t haunt your days or nights. 

For 15 years I have avoided walking his final path, afraid of what I might find inside myself as I witnessed his final view. There was a moment of terror and darkness as I looked over the edge for the first time, but that feeling didn’t last. It was quickly replaced by a peaceful calmness in me and I spoke to my dad for the first time since he left us. I wore my Minds Anonymous hoodie and got some photos of me adiosing the man that gave me life. It was good to feel his peaceful and, in some moments even humorous energy. I’m sure he was there today. 

I thought about the other people I have lost in my life and had a vision of my father, auntie and grandad sitting on a cloud, swinging their legs and giggling as I walked back down from the cliff edge. Some kids chanted, ‘daddy, daddy, daddy’ before their dad jumped into the sea and I burst out laughing, this must be a joke! It’s ok, that happened much lower down and was just a family having some fun in the sea and sun. But when I first heard the ‘daddy’ chant I thought I was hearing my inner child’s voice. I was glad when I saw it was real and not connected to me or my situation at all. A totally separate story. 

I took a labradorite crystal up with me and placed it on the rocks. I had only just bought it from The Rock Shop at Boscastle. I’ve always loved crystals and labradorite is a personal favourite. It felt right to carry the stone up there and see it changing colour in the sun. I will hold onto that piece as long as it is meant to be for me. 

I didn’t walk that path alone. My auntie, my father’s little sister, older now than he ever reached, was there with me and we inappropriately giggled at the feeling he was there with us. It was a very healing experience we shared as we looked out over the magnificent view. 

My dad always loved Cornwall and now I understand more why he chose that place to leave the world from. It is a beautiful place, calm and tranquil. I had fears I would want to go in myself, having recently recovered from a suicide attempt. But that was not in my thoughts for a second. I have struggled with suicidal thoughts at many times during my life but one of my brothers and I promised each other some years ago that we wouldn’t follow in his footsteps and go through with it, no matter how tough life got. And we haven’t. We never will. 

Life is a gift to be treasured. I have believed for some time that the purpose of life is to give life purpose. And we do this through the human connections we make. Success isn’t about making money, increasing our status or gaining notoriety or fame. To me, success is about the impact we have on other people that walk the earth with us. If we can impact others positively, helping them navigate their own stormy waters then I’d say we’re living a meaningful and successful life. 

A dear friend once asked me how a person ever gets over something like this. My answer was that we don’t really get over major traumas, but we can learn to move past the initial pain and into a place or understanding and forgiveness by looking at what the lessons our experiences could be trying to teach us. 

My father’s suicide taught me that it’s not the way to go. Death is not what we should focus on. We will all die, but let’s learn to live first. Living through every breath we take, living mindfully, living peacefully and finding harmony within ourselves is my focus now. 

Thank you for the lesson dad. Rest in peace as I learn to live with the inner peace you offered me on that cliff today.