Man, thinking about this..I have a lot. The first major one was when I was a freshman up at OSU. I was the youngest and left my parents as empty nesters, so they had a lot of space. My uncle (mom's brother and my godfather) from NY was having some marital problems, so they opened their house up for him to stay. He got a job as a chef at a hotel and when I would come home on weekends, he would bring me home steak, lobster, the best of everything and seemed happy and glad to see me. Was a loud guy, laughed a lot. After a few months, he said he was going to go back to NY, wanted to try to reconcile with my aunt Sissy. My mom, got him a plane ticket, took him to the airport, sent him on his way. A day later I get a call from my dad. He just said "Robert's dead." That's it..no hello, nothing. I was in shock, just kind of hit the floor.
Apparently as soon as he landed in NY, got a motel near LaGuardia, drank a bottle of Vodka and hung himself. I KNEW my mom would blame herself for sending him back. I thought her siblings would too. She was tough, was one of 11 kids from an Irish catholic family in Brooklyn, they never blamed her-apparently he'd been suicidal for a while and none of them shared that. The Irish are weird about things like that. The worst was when I would come home, he had stayed in my room and I could still smell him in there. He smoked camel no filters and that was in everything.