A little after Mottsu died, someone put me in touch with Sally; a woman in similar situation to mine. We met, we had a lot in common. Sally described the suicide of her husband, there were disquieting similarities in the lead up to our losses and in our experiences afterwards.

Sally warned me that the second year was harder than the first, that was news I didn’t need to know. The other thing she told me that I didn’t want to know was that there is an increased risk of suicide among people touched by suicide. I think Sally said the risk of dying by suicide was double for me than others. Was it prophecy?

She didn’t know she was talking to someone as coerced by suggestion and believing in destiny as I am. Being told I was at risk was an unwelcome omen. I remember the nun’s at schools telling a class of girls that some of us would receive a call to become a nun. They said it was important we not deny that calling if we heard it. I used to pray “Dear God, please don’t pick me, don’t call me, please don’t, please don’t… Our Father not me…. Angel of of God, my guardian dear – not me – not me…”. I still worry I might have ignored a calling. If it was there I denied it. I denied Sally’s forecast too.

I have tried to look up the suicide risk of grievers of suicide. There’s no data, only estimates, and apparently the likelihood of suicide after you have lost someone close to suicide is estimated as up to 5 times that of the population at large. I think that is still a very small number, a tiny risk.

There was no denying that suicide might have been easier for me than for others, just my familiarity with it would have increased the risk. Damn lies and statistics.

Whatever Sally could foretell, suicide is not for me.