![]() ![]() I looked for clues inside this little card with a cartoon penguin drawn on the front, written in block printing so my 5-year-old daughter could easily read it. I read over the last letter she had mailed to my children. Idk whats keeping me from suicide driver#The latitude and longitude where she landed, the last words she said to the shuttle bus driver who dropped her at the trail overlook, her mood when she met with her priest just four days prior. She took them to a few Diamondbacks baseball games the last summer we lived in Phoenix. My mom would see my kids several times a week, dropping by to play a game or read a book. I went back to the spot because I wanted to know everything. She jumped from the edge of the Grand Canyon. I can say it out loud now: She killed herself. I still catch my breath here, and feel dizzy and need to remind myself to breathe in through my nose out through my mouth, slower, and again. Four years to the day since she stood in this same spot and looked out at this same view. It was Ap– four years since my mother died. Rangers often give the same unsatisfying answer: Wind. Visitors always ask how the canyon was formed. It is a place that magnifies the questions in your mind and keeps the answers to itself. ![]() Everything about that view is impossible, a landscape that seems to defy both physics and description. ![]() I stood and looked down into the canyon, at a spot where, millions of years ago, a river cut through. If you are at risk, please stop here and contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline for support. Trigger warning: This story explores suicide, including the details of how the author’s mother took her own life. ![]()
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