I always thought my husband would be there for me when I needed him most, but when my mom passed away, he chose a vacation to Hawaii over staying with me through my grief. Heartbroken, I faced the funeral all by myself. But when he came back, I made sure he walked into something he’d never forget.
It all started on a normal day at work. The doctor’s number popped up on my phone, and somehow, I knew. My stomach dropped before I even picked up.
Mom was gone. Just like that. One moment she was fighting off a minor infection, and the next… she was just gone. My world came to a halt.
The next few hours are a blur. One second, I was at my desk, and the next, I was standing at my front door, struggling to get the keys in. My vision blurred with tears. John’s car was already in the driveway. Another one of his “work-from-home” days, which usually meant ESPN was on while he half-listened to calls.
“John?” I called, my voice shaky. “I need you.”
He came into the kitchen, holding his coffee cup, his face a little annoyed. “What’s wrong? You look awful.”
I tried to speak, but I couldn’t get the words out. I reached for him, desperate for a hug, for anything that would comfort me. He sighed and gave me a quick, awkward pat on the back.
“My mom… she’s gone, John. She died.”
His grip tightened briefly. “Oh, wow. That’s… I’m sorry.”
But then, just as quickly, he stepped back. “Do you want me to order takeout? Maybe Thai?”
I nodded, too numb to care.
The next day, reality hit. Funeral plans, calls to family, going through her things—it all came crashing down on me. As I sat at the kitchen table with my long list of things to do, I remembered something else.
“John, we’ll have to cancel our trip to Hawaii,” I said, not even looking up from my phone. “The funeral will probably be next week, and—”
“Cancel?” He lowered his newspaper and frowned at me. “Edith, those tickets were non-refundable. We’d lose a lot of money. And I already booked my golf times.”
I stared at him, shocked. “John, my mother just died.”
He folded his newspaper carefully, showing just how irritated he was.
“I understand you’re upset, but funerals are for family. I’m just your husband. Nobody’s going to notice if I’m not there. You can handle everything here, and you know I’m not great with emotional stuff.”
It felt like a punch to the gut. “Just my husband?”
“You know what I mean,” he said, adjusting his tie and not looking at me. “Besides, someone should use the tickets. Text me if you need anything.”
I looked at him, and in that moment, I realized just how little I really knew him—even after 15 years of marriage.
The next week was a blur of funeral preparations. John would sometimes offer a half-hearted “Are you okay?” or suggest I watch something funny to feel better. But when the day of the funeral came, he was boarding a plane to Hawaii. I saw his Instagram stories of sunsets, drinks, and the hashtag “#LivingMyBestLife,” while I buried my mother alone in the rain.
That night, sitting in my empty house, staring at the untouched casseroles people had dropped off, something inside me snapped. I had spent years making excuses for John’s lack of emotional support. “He’s just not good with feelings,” I would tell myself. “He shows his love in other ways.” But not anymore. I was done with that.
I picked up my phone and called Sarah, my friend who’s a realtor. “Hey, can you list the house for me? Oh, and throw in John’s Porsche.”
“Wait… his Porsche? Eddie, he’s going to lose it!” she said, surprised.
“That’s exactly what I want,” I said with a smirk.
The next day, potential buyers started showing up. I sat in the kitchen, sipping my coffee, watching as they admired John’s Porsche. When his Uber finally pulled up in the driveway, I smiled to myself. It was showtime.
John stormed into the house, his face red with anger. “Edith, what’s going on? Why are people asking about my car?”
“Oh, that? I’m selling the house. The Porsche is just a little bonus,” I said sweetly.
He grabbed his phone, panicking. “This is insane! I’m calling Sarah right now!”
“Go ahead,” I said, smiling. “Maybe you can tell her about how great your Hawaii vacation was. How was the beach?”
He stopped, realizing what was happening. “Wait… is this because I went to Hawaii? Are you mad at me?”
I stood up, letting my anger pour out. “You abandoned me when I needed you the most, John. I’m just doing what you always do—looking out for myself. After all, I’m just your wife, right?”
For the next hour, John scrambled to get rid of the buyers, begging me to stop the sale. Finally, when Sarah texted that her clients were leaving, I decided to give him a break.
“Fine. I won’t sell the house or the car,” I said. “This time.”
John sighed in relief. “Thank you, Edith. I—”
“Stop,” I interrupted. “But things are going to change. I needed my husband, and you weren’t there. You’re going to start being a partner, or next time, that ‘For Sale’ sign will be real.”
John looked at me, ashamed, finally realizing how badly he’d messed up. “What can I do to make it right?” he asked.
“You can start by showing up. Be my partner, not just a guy I live with. I lost my mother, John. You can’t fix that kind of pain 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 yet, but John’s making an effort. He’s started therapy, and just last week, he actually asked me how I was feeling about Mom. I talked about how much I missed her, how I still reach for the phone to call her, and how empty it feels when I remember she’s gone. And for once, John listened. He even opened up about his own feelings a little.
It’s a start. Small steps.
Sometimes, I think about what Mom would say if she knew all this had happened. I can almost hear her laugh and shake her head.
“That’s my girl,” she’d say. “Never let them see you cry. Just show them the ‘For Sale’ sign instead.”
Because if there’s one thing she taught me, it’s that being strong isn’t just about pushing through hard times. It’s about knowing when to push back.
What would you do in my situation? Let me know in the comments!
