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.
Dog was abandoned in the park – now he delights senior citizens in his new home
While it is always tragic to see a dog abandoned, many of these abused animals are fortunate enough to find wonderful new homes where they can live out their lives.
For example, a dog who was left behind in a park earlier this year is now making the most of some rather unique new settings.
The Associated Humane Popcorn Park Shelter in Forked River, New Jersey, adopted Paulie, a pitbull who was four and a half years old, after he was left behind at a nearby park in February.
Paulie’s past was unknown, but based on his ability to walk on a leash, sit on command, and “plop himself down on the first soft bed or blanket that he sees in a room,” it seemed he had lived in a “decent home” at some point.
The shelter commented, “How in the world could this adorable little pudge-pot of a dog get dumped and abandoned in a city park?” “We’ll never know, but fortunately he was rescued before he was in danger.”
He is the “sweetest and most mellow guy,” according to them, who is gregarious and enjoys belly massages.
Paulie found a devoted new home on March 8. “With him, I truly struck it lucky,” the adopter wrote on Facebook. “I’ve owned a number of dogs over the years, but this one is unique. I never thought I would adopt a dog who is so loving, so submissive, and an all-around wonderful dog.”
According to Paulie’s new owner, the dog gets along well with his 16-month-old granddaughter and even goes to work with him, where he does a particular task that makes elderly residents happy!
Pictures of Paulie with his new family and senior citizen buddies show him soaking in the love. In one picture, the placid dog is seen lying close to the feet of an elderly woman, perhaps ready to request a belly rub.
“He makes them grin for the four hours I’m there, when I tell you. The owner remarked, “I’m not sure who loves it more, them or him.
“Whoever advises against getting a pitbull may not be as correct as they seem. Wait till you have one before you judge them.
The shelter expressed their delight at the joyful conclusion, stating that they “couldn’t be happier for Paulie and his new family” and that everything turned out perfectly in the end, despite the tragic circumstances surrounding his abandonment.
“Paulie must have been very sad on the day he was left alone in a city park, but little did he know that was the best day of his life.” Why? It brought him to this,” they penned. “He’s getting even by living the best life he’s ever had!”
We’re overjoyed that Paulie has found such a wonderful new home and is making seniors happy! Please tell this tale!
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