Dear heart, it was NOT your fault, and don't let any demons try to sneak in at tired moments and whisper such lies to you.
Your husband reminds me old my old high friend's son, only he committed suicide at 18 right before his high school graduation. Jerrod had been diagnosed as depressed as a young child, and been off and on Prozac since childhood. He had had excellent psychologists for years to talk to any time he wanted. He loved his parents, they were very close to their only son and sought every help possible for him. Jerrod had mentioned in 8th grade that he felt suicidal and the school consulers called his parents immediately. Everyone worked together and Jerrod seemed fine for years after going back to Prozac daily.
But Jerrod had gotten off Prozac about three months before his death. He hoped he didn't need it anymore. THERE WAS NO WARNING, and he had loving parents, friends, help available - but he said nothing to anyone. All seemed great, he had an after school job assembling computers, a beautiful new pickup truck, college acceptance letters, and a fine girlfriend whom he was taking to a concert in two weeks.
Then one afternoon, shortly before high school graduation, Jerrod came home and blew his brains out. He left a very detailed suicide note, full funeral instructions, lots of apologies - and the reason. It was simple: the hopeless black depression was coming back, and he just couldn't fight it any more. He'd fought it most of his young life, and he had lost hope in even trying Prozac again. He was worn out and could see nothing but that black despairing pain never leaving him in this life.
His girlfriend, his host of friends, school consulars, and parents didn't have any idea at all that he was even lightly depressed. His girlfriend tried blaming herself that she should have "seen some sign". But his mother who had tried so hard to help him since his early childhood knew it wasn't anyone's fault. Jerrod just couldn't face that soul-sucking depressive hell coming on again. The battle seemed hopeless, and he was so tired.
Some people have a battle that those born with luckier brain chemistry never know. Chris was a very well-liked and respected FReeper as you can tell. He bore his torment with wit and bravery, and he was so kind to others here. In his mind/brain/emotions, he must have gone through hell for years, but we can trust that he is being comforted and at peace in a far better place right now.
God bless you, dear heart, and give FR's love to all Chris's family.