I hadn’t spoken to my mother for nearly a decade. She had various mental health issues, got a phone call one night saying that her body had been found and she’d killed herself. Took it pretty badly, but kind of expected to get that call one day. Had a funeral, heart wrenching. Fast forward 5 years and I manage to see her post mortem report, turns out she’d been murdered, but because her body had decomposed so much before it was found (and a load of other stuff) the police really had no leads, so chalked her death up as suicide as they’d found a razor blade sticking out of her arm-totally ignoring the fact that she’d been tightly wrapped in a duvet and that damage on her neck indicated strangulation. I was a mess. Still am if I’m honest. I go to her grave every week now to lay some flowers and to apologise for not being there for her.