I thought my husband would be there for me when my mom passed away, but instead, he chose a vacation to Hawaii over my grief. Devastated, I faced the funeral alone. But when he returned, he walked into a situation he never expected—a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. I was at work when the doctor’s number flashed on my phone, and somehow, I knew what was coming. My heart sank even before I answered. Mom was gone. Just like that. One minute she was fighting a minor lung infection, and the next… nothing. My world stopped making sense.
I don’t remember much after that. One moment I was sitting in my cubicle, and the next I was home, fumbling with my keys, eyes blurred with tears. John’s car was in the driveway, another one of his “work-from-home” days, which usually meant ESPN muted in the background while he pretended to answer emails.“John?” My voice echoed through the house. “I need you.” He stepped into the kitchen, holding a coffee mug, looking mildly annoyed. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” I tried to speak, but the words got tangled in my throat. I reached out to him, desperate for comfort. He sighed and gave me a quick, awkward pat on the back, like he was consoling a distant acquaintance. “My mom… she died, John. Mom’s gone.” His grip tightened for a moment. “Oh, wow. That’s… I’m sorry.” Then, just as quickly, he pulled away. “Do you want me to order takeout?
Maybe Thai?” I nodded, numb. The next day, reality hit hard. There was so much to handle—planning the funeral, notifying family, and dealing with a lifetime of memories. As I sat at the kitchen table, buried in lists, I remembered our planned vacation. “John, we’ll need to cancel Hawaii,” I said, looking up from my phone. “The funeral will probably be next week, and—” “Cancel?”
He lowered his newspaper, frowning. “Edith, those tickets were non-refundable. We’d lose a lot of money. Besides, I’ve already booked my golf games.” I stared at him, stunned. “John, my mother just died.” He folded the newspaper with the kind of precision that told me he was more irritated than concerned. “I get that you’re upset, but funerals are for family. I’m just your husband—your cousins won’t even notice I’m not there. You can handle things here, and you know I’m not great with emotional stuff.” It felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “Just my husband?” “You know what I mean,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze and adjusting his tie. “Besides, someone should use those tickets. You can text me if you need anything.” I felt like I was seeing him clearly for the first time in 15 years of marriage. The week that followed was a blur. John occasionally offered a stiff pat on the shoulder or suggested I watch a comedy to lift my mood. But when the day of the funeral came, he was on a plane to Hawaii, posting Instagram stories of sunsets and cocktails. “#LivingMyBestLife,” one caption read. Meanwhile, I buried my mother alone on a rainy Thursday. That night, sitting in an empty house, surrounded by untouched sympathy casseroles, something snapped inside me. I had spent years making excuses for John’s emotional absence. “He’s just not a feelings person,” I would say. “He shows his love in other ways.” But I was done pretending.I called my friend Sarah, a realtor. “Can you list the house for me? Oh, and include John’s Porsche in the deal.” “His Porsche? Eddie, he’ll lose it!” “That’s the point.” The next morning, “potential buyers” started showing up. I sat in the kitchen, sipping coffee, watching as they circled John’s beloved car. When his Uber finally pulled into the driveway, I couldn’t help but smile. It was showtime. John stormed in, face flushed. “Edith, what the hell? People are asking about my car!” “Oh, that. I’m selling the house. The Porsche is a great bonus, don’t you think?”He sputtered, pulling out his phone. “This is insane! I’ll call Sarah right now!” “Go ahead,” I said sweetly. “Maybe you can tell her about your fabulous vacation. How was the beach?” Realization slowly dawned across his face. “This… is this some kind of payback? Did I do something wrong?” I stood, letting my anger finally surface. “You abandoned me when I needed you most. I’m just doing what you do: looking out for myself. After all, I’m just your wife, right?” John spent the next hour frantically trying to shoo away buyers, while begging me to reconsider. By the time Sarah texted that her friends had run out of patience, I let him off the hook—sort of. “Fine. I won’t sell the house or the car.” I paused. “This time.” He sagged with relief. “Thank you, Edith. I—” I held up my hand. “But things are going to change. I needed my husband, and you weren’t there. You’re going to start acting like a partner, or next time, the For Sale sign will be real.” He looked ashamed, finally understanding the gravity of his actions. “What can I do to make this right?” “You can start by showing up. Be a partner, not a roommate. I lost my mother, John. That kind of grief isn’t something you can fix with a vacation or a fancy dinner.” He nodded. “I don’t know how to be the man you need, but I love you, and I want to try.” It’s not perfect now. John still struggles with emotions, but he’s going to therapy, and last week, for the first time, he asked me how I was feeling about Mom. He listened while I talked about how much I missed her calls and how I sometimes still reach for the phone, only to remember she’s not there. He even opened up a little about his own feelings. It’s progress. Baby steps. I often wonder what Mom would say about all this. I can almost hear her chuckling, shaking her head. “That’s my girl,” she’d say. “Never let them see you sweat. Just show them the ‘For Sale’ sign instead.” Because if there’s one thing she taught me, it’s that strength comes in many forms. Sometimes it’s pushing through the pain, and sometimes it’s knowing when to push back.
Optical Illusion Unveils Your Romantic Personality Type
Optical illusions have a fascinating way of tricking our minds—making us see things that aren’t really there or causing us to miss the obvious. Beyond their entertaining nature, these illusions often spark curiosity and deeper conversations. They can also serve as a window into your personality, including insights into your approach to love.
The following optical illusion is designed to reveal what kind of lover you are based on the first image you notice. Understanding your romantic tendencies can be essential for building a strong relationship grounded in communication, understanding, and mutual respect.
Relationships thrive on emotional connection and shared values, and this test offers a glimpse into how you express love and what you value most in a partnership. By learning more about yourself, you can foster deeper connections with your significant other.
Take a moment to examine the image below and note what you see first.
Here’s what it says about you:
If You First Noticed the Face
You are determined and goal-oriented, always planning your next move with confidence. As a natural leader, you’re known for your reliability and decisiveness.
As a lover: You value quality time and believe that prioritizing your partner is key to a successful relationship. You appreciate when your partner makes time for you despite their busy schedule and reciprocate by making them a priority in your life.
If You First Noticed the Trees
Your sensitivity is your hallmark. Past heartbreaks may have left emotional scars, but you carry hope and resilience into new relationships.
As a lover: You believe in the power of vulnerability. Sharing your fears, pain, and emotions with your partner helps you build meaningful connections. For you, even small acts of emotional openness can deepen intimacy.
If You First Noticed the Wolf
Passion and confidence define you. You’re a magnetic personality, the life of the party, and someone who knows how to make others feel comfortable and entertained.
As a lover: Physical touch is your love language. From sweet gestures to moments of intimacy, you express your affection through action rather than words. While you enjoy playful interactions, tender moments of cuddling and gentle affection reveal your softer side.
If You First Noticed the Moon
You’re a dreamer with a love for art, music, and other creative expressions. Inspiration fuels your soul, and you often see beauty in the world’s spiritual and artistic side.
As a lover: Your love is expressed through creativity. Whether it’s a poem, a painting, or a song, your partner inspires your artistic pursuits. For you, every act of creativity is a heartfelt dedication to the one you love.
If You First Noticed the House
Home and security are your sanctuary. You find joy in cozy, intimate settings and cherish the simple pleasures of life with your partner.
As a lover: You show your affection by caring for your partner’s needs, often through acts of service. Preparing a comforting meal or creating a warm, inviting space is your way of expressing how much they mean to you.
By understanding your romantic personality, you can deepen your bond with your partner and grow closer in your relationship.
Share this article with your friends and loved ones on Facebook and discover their romantic sides too!
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