Milton Keynes vicar's world fell apart when her son took his own life

On 3 September 2021, 17-year-old Leo Toze died when he was struck by a train near Biggleswade in Bedfordshire. A coroner recorded a verdict of suicide. His death made his mother, the Reverend Sharon Grenham-Thompson, question not just her faith but whether she could continue working as a priest. Here, Ms Grenham-Thompson explains how she worked through her feelings.

'I loved him. He was my son.'

The Rev Sharon Grenham-Thompson, who lives in Bedfordshire, has been an ordained priest for 25 years and has previously worked in prisons

Leo Dominic, my third child of four, was a really clever young man. He was on the autistic spectrum.

He was a maths genius. He used to blow us away with his ability.

He loved cricket, was part of a local club and knew just about everything there was to know about the sport.

He had a very active online life and was a real fan of the game Geometry Dash.

Leo was given a Young Leaders in Cricket award by the England and Wales Cricket Board in 2019

He was also someone who loved trains.

When he was two years old, I took him to Flitwick railway station and we would sit on the platform and we would watch the trains go by. He had this amazing recall of details about trains.

Whenever we went anywhere as a family on the train we didn't need to look up timetables and maps as we would just ask Leo to tell us which station we had to go to and where to get off, and what time it was and he would always do it.

He was a tall, lanky lad of about 6ft 2in (1.9m) and he was very caring and gentle with animals and people.

One of the things that many of his friends have told me since he died was how kind he was to them, how supportive and thoughtful, and that ties in with the young man I knew.

I loved him. He was my son.

"His mind, as well as his gentle, sensitive spirit, is such a loss to the world, as well as to his family" said Sharon

We both loved sunsets so would go for walks together and just stand there quietly side by side. We loved the stars.

He was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome when he was five years old and as he grew up his difficulty manifested itself as social anxiety.

He found talking face to face with people challenging. He also had sensory processing difficulties.

I wanted him to settle and be happy and go through life as best as he could.

When he was about eight years old I spoke to him about his diagnosis, explained what it meant, and talked to him about how he felt in the world and how it might be difficult for him growing up.

I told him how much I loved him, that he would always be accepted, that nobody wanted him to be different and that we would help him to find his way and help him with his anxiety, and I hope I did that.

He probably kept from us quite how difficult it was.

I don't think I realised the extent of what people on the spectrum call "masking".

He wanted to fit in, he found it very difficult that he didn't fit in, that he was different and that eventually led to the depression that consumed him.

In January 2021, Leo tried twice to take his own life in the bedroom next to where I was sleeping. I found out as he sent me an email to tell me.

We went straight back to the crisis team [that had been treating him] and he was given a counsellor and a psychiatrist.

'I didn't hear a reply'

Sharon has created a book that is full of memories and photos of Leo

I can remember the few days before he died in acute detail.

He'd been unwell and in a bit of a crisis on the Monday night; he died on the Friday.

On the Monday night we'd had the police here because he'd posted something on social media that worried his friends [enough] to call the police out.

Although he was upset, he reassured me he was fine.

We got him some appointments with counsellors that week and he had three telephone consultations.

We drew up a safety plan for him, so when he felt bad again he would know the steps to take and through the week he got a lot better.

We watched movies, we ate pizza, we went out for coffee, we walked the dog, we did normal ordinary family things.

On the Friday morning, he said he was going to go into town, have a coffee and buy some books for college.

I said to him are you sure you're OK, shall I come with you?

"No, I'm fine, it will do me good," he said.

He reassured me.

Leo celebrating his 10th birthday

We chatted about bus times, we talked about the meal I was cooking, we just nattered. It was all so ordinary.

"Have a good time son, I love you," I said to him. I always told him I loved him, every day.

And he went off to his room.

I went out in the car and called out a cursory, "bye now, see you later".

I didn't hear a reply, but that was normal.

'How cruel is God?'

Leo always liked to get dressed in a certain way, Sharon said

The loss of my son was just absolutely devastating, all-enveloping and any thoughts of how I might be professional went out the window for months.

I just couldn't function. My whole world fell apart.

Grief of any sort is devastating but when it's your child, the thing that people say should never happen, and they've died by suicide - I can't express how overwhelming that experience is; it's like everything explodes around you.

I was just trying to work out how I was going to live without my son.

Gradually since then, I've received support, some counselling, medical help and support from my wonderful family and husband, Richard.

I've emerged blinking from that terrible time and begun to think about faith and for quite a while I thought "how can there possibly be a God to allow this to happen, or if there is a God, how cruel is God?"

I remember driving along in my car and shouting out "it's all right for you, you got your son back".

For a while I just felt bitter, I felt angry, so I really questioned whether I could carry on being a priest with any integrity.

Slowly that's changed.

'Keep loving, keep hoping, keep talking'

Sharon said her husband, Richard, who is Leo's stepfather, has been her constant support

One of the ways faith has come back to me is the love that I've been surrounded by - not just friends and family, but complete strangers on the internet.

When you see the power of love and people reaching out from their own pain, how that can really surround you and enfold you and help you.

Faith has come back to me in the form of love.

My message to parents is that if you're worried about your child, talk to them and talk and talk some more and don't take what they tell you first off for granted.

Just keep loving them. Maybe you do have to make yourself annoying - be annoying, keep pressing and keep fighting for your child and keep hoping that you connect and love will be what they need.

For the vast majority it doesn't end up like this and, my goodness, I don't wish it on anybody.

Leo is forever in the thoughts of his family

I've been angry with him, I've been devastated, I've asked for his forgiveness for missing things.

I light a candle for him every day and every day I tell him I love him and I hope and I cling on to the faith that he is somewhere and he does still know that I just love him.

Keep loving, keep hoping, keep talking.

If you are affected by the issues covered in this article, help and support is available at BBC Actionline.

As told to Alex Pope