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.
Unwanted Guests in Your House: The Troublesome Insects
Being a homeowner requires you to live with some unpleasant guests. Don’t worry, we’re not talking about strange people hiding in your crawlspace. In actuality, we are discussing annoying insects that you might encounter. Let me begin by stating that, although I’m sure a lot of you share my sentiments, I personally detest having earwigs, spiders, or ants live in my house.
Still, there is nothing we can do about it. These small critters don’t see it as a planned home invasion, at least I hope not. It’s just where they should be. Even though I’ve learned to tolerate the most of the insects that have taken up residence in my walls, ticks are one pest that I simply cannot stand.
I’m willing to bet that no one finds ticks enjoyable. These are truly disgusting bugs that propagate disease quickly. This makes it essential to know how to identify tick egg clusters and what to do in the event that you find them in your grass. Thankfully, we’ve gathered some useful information to help us respond to your urgent questions.
Identifying Tick Eggs
Tick eggs are roughly the size of a poppy seed and are so little that they are almost invisible to the human eye (0.5mm in diameter). They are translucent and frequently have an oblong or pear shape. They are usually seen in clusters attached to plants, leaves, or other surfaces close to the ground.
As they age, these eggs become more opaque and smoother. They feel shiny and may be light brown or pale yellow in hue.
What to Do If Tick Eggs Are Discovered
Panic ensues when you find what looks like a clutch of tick eggs. Unless I’m alone, tick eggs are a major issue. Because ticks can transmit illnesses like Lyme disease and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, it is best to safely remove the eggs.
Consult a local veterinarian or a professional pest management specialist for correct diagnosis and guidance on what to do next.
Keeping Your Yard Tick-Free
Nobody like finding tick eggs in their backyard or any other yard, it’s a fact. It is therefore essential to take action to lessen the possibility that they will be present.
Since ticks love to feed on deer, being preventive includes getting rid of plants that attract deer. These kinds of plants include tulips, azaleas, and hostas. You can also grow herbs and plants that repel ticks, such rosemary, mint, and chrysanthemums.
It’s also important to keep your yard well-groomed and remove any foliage that could serve as a tick hiding place. Additionally, keep wood piles off the ground since ticks like to lay their eggs in moist, dark places.
Using natural tick repellents and adopting preventative measures to keep small mammals like mice and rabbits out of your garden will also help you achieve tick-free yards. If required, insecticides are an alternative, but proceed with caution at all times to preserve the habitat.
Did you know what tick eggs were? Please share this information with your family and friends if you believe they would benefit from it.
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