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.
You Won’t Believe What Your Kitchen’s Pull-Out Cutting Board Was Actually Intended For!
The Evolution of Cutting Boards
If you’re like most homeowners, you probably have a cutting board in your kitchen. This essential tool has been used for centuries, originally designed for breadmaking. Pull-out cutting boards provided a clean, stable surface for bakers to knead dough, let it rise, and prepare it for the oven.
Modern Uses of Cutting Boards
Today, cutting boards serve many purposes beyond breadmaking. They are indispensable for chopping, slicing, and dicing meats, vegetables, and fruits. Made from various materials like plastic, bamboo, and wood, cutting boards are crucial in any kitchen. However, wood cutting boards, especially those made from maple, are considered the best for several reasons.
The Benefits of Maple Cutting Boards
Maple is a hard, durable wood that withstands frequent use and knife cuts. It resists bacteria growth better than plastic or bamboo, which can develop grooves and scratches that harbor bacteria. Maple cutting boards are also easier to maintain.
Maintaining Your Cutting Board
Proper cleaning is vital for your cutting board’s longevity. After each use, scrub it with a mixture of baking soda or kosher salt and lemon to remove stains and odors. Rinse thoroughly with hot water and dry with a clean towel. Applying a food-grade cutting board oil keeps the wood from drying out and prevents crackin
Cutting Boards: A Kitchen Essential
Despite their evolution, cutting boards remain essential for home cooks and professional chefs. With proper care and maintenance, a quality cutting board can last for years, providing a clean, safe surface for food preparation.
Explore Breadmaking at Home
If you’re interested in breadmaking, try making your own bread at home. The rise of home baking during the pandemic has led many to discover the joy of homemade bread. Numerous recipes and tutorials are available online, including on the popular YouTube channel “Becca Beach.”
Discover Becca Beach’s Breadmaking Tips
Becca Beach, a passionate home cook and baker, shares her recipes and cooking tips with her followers. In her video “Homemade Bread – SUPER Easy and Delicious!” she demonstrates how to make a simple loaf at home.
The Benefits of Homemade Bread
Making your own bread is fun and rewarding, and it’s healthier and more economical than buying store-bought bread. You can control the ingredients, ensuring your bread is free from preservatives and additives.
Cutting Boards and Culinary Adventures
Cutting boards have evolved from their original breadmaking purpose to become kitchen essentials made from various materials for multiple uses. Proper cleaning and maintenance ensure their longevity and safety. If you’re looking for a new culinary adventure, try making your own bread at home. With online tutorials and a quality cutting board, you can become a breadmaking expert in no time!
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