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.
Drone Captures Rare Images of Isolated People Who Are Cut Off From the World
G. Miranda’s breathtaking photographs, captured for Survival International, offer a rare glimpse into the secluded existence of various uncontacted tribes worldwide. From the enigmatic Sentinelese on North Sentinel Island, India, to the Amazon tribes near Brazil’s Javari River valley bordering Peru, these images provide a captivating aerial view.
The drone photographs are proof of the existence of untouched tribes.
A mesmerizing compilation video, shared on Death Island Expeditions’ YouTube channel in 2018, has garnered over 3.5 million views, showcasing these remote settlements and their inhabitants. Witness tribespeople, armed with traditional bows and arrows, gazing curiously at the hovering drones, offering a poignant insight into their untouched world.
It amuses people by showing the lives of tribespeople, which are different from ours.
Captivated viewers on YouTube expressed profound astonishment at the vast disparity between their lives and those of these tribespeople. One commenter marveled, “It blows my mind how different our lives are. The fact that they don’t even know about the existence of grocery stores, factories, phones, social media, everything that makes our society what it is. It’s so surreal.”
However, these untouched tribes are now in danger and need protection.
FUNAI, Brazil’s National Indian Foundation, plays a pivotal role in formulating policies concerning indigenous tribes, and their involvement in capturing drone footage underscores their commitment to preserving these cultures.
While some imagery dates back to 2008, as reported by Survival International, the significance of these visuals remains timeless, as emphasized by uncontacted tribes expert José Carlos dos Reis Meirelles Júnior. He highlighted the urgent need to protect these tribes from external threats, such as illegal logging activities encroaching from Peru.
“We did the overflight to show their houses, to show they are there, to show they exist,” he said.
A film has also been released. The Mission, a poignant documentary directed by Amanda McBaine and Jesse Moss, sheds light on the tragic fate of American missionary John Allen Chau. His ill-fated attempt to make contact with the Sentinelese people in 2018 resulted in his untimely demise, symbolizing the delicate balance between curiosity and respect for these isolated communities.
Another curious discovery occurred in Peru. The discovery of “alien mummies” at the airport has captured global attention, and scientists have revealed something disturbing.
Preview photo credit Death Island Expeditions / YouTube, G. Miranda/FUNAI/Survival
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