As a 13-year-old, Will Vaulks was enjoying a round of golf when he was suddenly overcome by a sense of sorrow and an overwhelming urge to be with his family. He had been dropped off by his mother and was halfway through the round when he experienced this profound homesickness. “I was playing really well, I was on for a record round, but when I got to the ninth tee, I had this horrendous homesick feeling,” he recalls of that unforgettable day in 2006. “It was beyond anything I’d ever felt. I didn’t know why, but I just wanted to get home.”
When Will’s mother arrived to take him home, his sister Anna was in the car, crying, and Ruth had to break the devastating news that their grandfather Tom had taken his own life. ‘I’ve got a terrible memory – I can’t even remember what I did yesterday – but that day is still so clear,’ the Sheffield Wednesday midfielder tells Metro. When they arrived back home, Will witnessed his father, Gary, cry for the first time as he tried to be honest with his three children, while protecting them from the devastating reality surrounding their grandfather’s death.
‘For a young teenager, it was very confusing,’ remembers Will. ‘I had so many questions. Losing someone to suicide is completely different to a natural death. It causes so much stress, anguish and worry. It was: “Was there anything I could have done? Could we have done more? Was I not good enough? Did we not love him enough?”’
His paternal grandfather, Tom Vaulks, was an ex-miner and, from the outside at least, was a happy-go-lucky man. He was ‘the fun grandad’ who let his grandkids get away with anything and stay up at all hours.
‘He was a very working class man who would never speak about feelings ,’ remembers Will, 30. ‘He had a bright red Kawasaki 500 motorbike that he’d take me out on. He was brilliant – an amazing granddad.’
But behind the mask, 67-year-old Tom, who lived near Ferryhill, County Durham, could only have been living in deep anguish. Divorced from Will’s nan, he used to complain about a stomach pain that he couldn’t get diagnosed and six months before his death, Tom attempted suicide in a move that shocked the family.
‘We will never know what was going on. Was it severe depression? Was it PTSD from being down the mines?’ asks Will. ‘Everyone thinks with suicide that there’s a massive reason behind it ; that people are either in huge amount of debt or they’ve had an affair or there are addiction issues… but there wasn’t one obvious cause. Clearly now, with hindsight, we can see Grandad was severely depressed and didn’t feel able to speak up about it.’
As the family began to come to terms with their loss, they were struck by further tragedy 13 months later when Will’s maternal grandfather, Hywel, took his own life at 78. Looking back, Will says, it was clear that he had planned to end his life. The night before, Hywel, ‘a family man, quiet and loving’, had come to watch him play football, but instead of sticking around to chat as he normally would, he left after the game. Ruth went to check on him that night, and he told her: ‘You do know I love you, don’t you.’ Will says: ‘I think that’s been really hard for my mum over the years. It was a nice thing to say, but also has left my mum with questions. She’s asked herself: “Was it a sign? Should I have spotted it?” He’d obviously made the decision by that point, but we will never know the ins and outs.’
The next morning, a worried phone call from Ruth’s mum Brenda marked another unforgettable day for Will. ‘Grandma said she’d woken up and Grandad wasn’t in bed or in the house. There were alarm bells, but we didn’t anticipate what was to come,’ he remembers. ‘I stayed off school that day and it emerged that he hadn’t taken a coat, or got properly dressed when he left, so we knew he hadn’t gone for a walk. Then the police were called and it was the helicopter out and search dogs.
‘What was really hard is that it was my mum who found him.’
Following Hywel’s death, the family began to unravel. The kids suffered, Ruth’s mental health spiralled and her mother Brenda had a total breakdown from which she never recovered.
‘It was even worse with my mum’s dad,’ remembers Will. ‘Having it already happen didn’t make it any easier. It’s like a bomb goes off within the family. Grief is so complex with suicide. I felt angry; how could my granddad do that to my mum, my grandma?
‘The shockwaves reverberated for years. My mum and dad could have ended up divorced. I could have given up football gone down the wrong path. I’m just grateful the family stayed together, because people can spiral after losing someone to suicide.
‘We just wish he had spoken to us because we could have found him help. I want people to know that what you leave behind is unfathomable.’
Will now wants to prevent other people from leaving the same devastation, especially as more than 5,284 suicides were registered in the UK in 2022, according to latest research – 65 deaths more than the previous year.
Last year Will walked with suicide prevention march Baton of Hope, a UK tour through 12 cities across 12 days, and this month he will speak at the charity’s first annual conference. He also plans to train up in suicide prevention, because he can do CPR if someone has a heart attack but wouldn’t know how to rescue someone from the brink – and he always asks his friends how they really are.
‘I work in an extremely male-dominated environment, and while we’ve got better, there is still a long way to go,’ he explains. ‘We say: “How are you mate?” “Yeah, alright mate. Sound.” That’s it. Conversation done. Sometimes you need to ask a bit more. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem a bit quiet.”
‘I do that with my mates now. The problem with men is , we bury it and think that it’s weak to talk about it. Whereas actually, I feel strongly that the hard thing to do is be open. If you think someone is struggling, ask them if they have had thoughts of taking their own life. People think you’re going to put something in somebody’s head, but it doesn’t work like that.
‘And if you are struggling, suicide is never the answer. There are people there that love you and will miss you. You may not want to share it with your nearest and dearest, but there are people you can ring like the Samaritans.
My grandads didn’t feel able to talk to us about what they were going through, but there are people out there that can help. Suicide is preventable, and we need to do more to raise awareness and provide support for those who are struggling.
