February 8, 1982, happily and newly remarried, I left my home and moved 600 miles away. My mom and dad were happy for me. My mom had been ill, but she seemed better. On Valentine’s I got a lovely card from my parents, and I spoke with them on the phone. On February 16, at 11:00 a.m., I got a call from my ex-MIL. She said my mom was dead. Early that morning, she had shot herself at home. She didn’t survive surgery. My new husband and I flew back. It was the most horrible experience. I blamed myself for many years. Would she have done that if I had been home? Where did she get the gun? The guilt and embarrassment has followed me.