From a feminist perspective, it seems like an extreme case of coercive control. A wife stands by the husband who slit her wrists in bed and then attempted to kill himself. What kind of beaten-down soul even thinks of forgiving a man who does something like that, let alone tells the arresting police officers that he did it ‘out of a place of love’?
But look a little closer, and there’s more to the sad tale of Andrew, 69, and Karen Sawyer, 61, than meets the eye. Described by their daughter as a ‘gentle giant and thoughtful’, Mr Sawyer ‘had never shown any aggression’. He and Mrs Sawyer had enjoyed ‘a happy, mutually supportive marriage for 43 years’.
But on the night of February 16, something snapped in Mr Sawyer. He cuddled his wife in bed, and then inflicted a 10cm ‘gaping wound’ on her wrist, telling her: ‘I’ll stay with you until the end — and then I’ll do me.’ She escaped, locking herself in the bathroom and summoning an ambulance as he slashed himself.
What he did was undoubtedly criminal, and he has been jailed for nearly four years for attempted murder. But from what I can tell, this is not just a case of a violent act by a violent man. Mr Sawyer had no history of abusive behaviour. Instead, it seems to me he did what he did out of sheer desperation, his mind broken by circumstances from which he could see no escape.
rom a feminist perspective, it seems like an extreme case of coercive control. A wife stands by the husband who slit her wrists in bed and then attempted to kill himself
But look a little closer, and there’s more to the sad tale of Andrew, 69, and Karen Sawyer, 61, than meets the eye
People often assume that once someone gets to the age of 69, life is just a gentle round of gardening, playing with the grandkids, the occasional trip to the seaside and gin-and-tonics in the garden at 6pm. But for many retirement-age people, that is sadly not the case.
Geriatric poverty is on the increase, as is depression among the over-50s. Before the pandemic, Britain already had Europe’s highest rate of poverty among pensioners: five times greater than it did in the 1980s. Since Covid, that figure has worsened still.
For every comfortable middle-class professional who loved lockdown, wafting around their nice open-plan kitchens baking soda bread, there were plenty for whom it was a financial and emotional disaster.
Not just vulnerable children, deprived of school and socialisation; not just people in care homes, separated from their families; not just the bereaved, the lonely, those trapped in abusive relationships. But also countless ordinary working people whose jobs and livelihoods were hammered by the restrictions.
Mr and Mrs Sawyer are a case in point. The court heard that they ‘had debt coming out of their ears’. He had lost his job as an electrical-sales consultant after being furloughed; she had lost the hair salon she ran after it was forced to close.
Despite Mr Sawyer having found work as a delivery driver, they couldn’t afford their £800-a-month interest-only mortgage. They also had credit card debts of £25,000.
None of which, of course, justifies Mr Sawyer’s actions. But I can’t help feeling some sympathy for this man, approaching 70, who in his distress and worry felt he had run out of road. A younger bloke might have felt able to dig himself out of such a mess. But after a lifetime’s work — and at a time when age inevitably begins to take its toll — maybe Mr Sawyer simply couldn’t cope.
I can’t help feeling some sympathy for this man, approaching 70, who in his distress and worry felt he had run out of road
People tend not to associate mental illness with older people: there’s a perception that it predominately affects the young. But I know of at least one person in their late 70s who has been diagnosed with geriatric depression, and others who seem literally to have lost the will to live.
The younger generation are good at asking for help. For them, mental illness does not carry the same stigma that it does for my parents’ generation, who still interpret depression or anxiety as a sign of failure. The last thing they would ever do is admit they are struggling, let alone see a therapist or take medication.
Getting old and suddenly finding — often through circumstances beyond your control — that you don’t have enough money is terrifying. I’ve seen it happen to friends of my parents, and the effect on their health — both mental and physical — is devastating. A friend of a friend’s father actually took a shotgun and blew his brains out. The money had simply dried up, and he didn’t want to be a burden to his children.
I’m not saying Mr Sawyer should have got away scot-free. I’m saying that I can understand why his poor wife forgives him. And I respect her for her strength — and for her love, and her kindness.
The past few years have been incredibly tough for many people. Plans have been shattered, livelihoods destroyed by the actions of politicians who still — to this day — defend lockdown. Indeed, in some cases — Matt Hancock — they would go harder, faster and for longer if given a second chance.
The full impact of that madness has yet to play out. But the economic fallout from Covid continues to worsen, interest rates continue to rise and the cost of living continues to bite. Many who have been holding on are suddenly finding their lives being tipped over the edge.
I hope and pray that men like Mr Sawyer seek the help they need. And remember that no situation is ever so hopeless as to warrant such desperate and violent action.
For help and support contact the Samaritans on 116 123 or visit samaritans.org
