It’s been 67 days since my sister-in-law died from depression. She was 44 years old. I’ll be 42 on Thursday. I keep wondering what she was thinking about on her 42nd birthday - before the major depressive episode. Before the pain. Before . . . everything. It was just 3 weeks after my youngest son was born. I don’t know what she was thinking about because I didn’t ask. I wished her a happy birthday. 1/2