
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.
A woman who died and came back to life after 11 minutes has shared what she experienced during that time.

A woman named Charlotte Holmes said she spent 11 minutes in heaven after a near-death experience and shared the amazing things she saw in the afterlife.
In September 2019, Charlotte was at a routine check-up with her heart doctor when her blood pressure suddenly shot up to a dangerous 234/134. The doctors told her she might be having another stroke or a heart attack.
She was taken to the hospital while her husband, Danny, watched helplessly. He recalled the moment he thought he might lose her, saying, “Immediately, they called a code, and everyone rushed in. They started working on her, and I wondered if I would even be able to bring her home.”
As Charlotte’s condition got worse, she began to describe things she could see, like flowers. But when Danny looked around the room and realized there were no flowers, he realized something incredible. “That’s when I knew she was not in this world,” he said.

Charlotte’s heart had stopped, and for the next 11 minutes, she was clinically dead. But during that time, she said she was looking down at her lifeless body while watching doctors and nurses try to bring her back.
“I could smell the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever smelled, and then I heard music,” she remembered. “When I opened my eyes, I knew where I was. I knew I was in heaven.”
Charlotte, who lives in Wichita, Kansas, described being surrounded by incredible beauty in every direction. She watched everything sway in time with the music she could hear.
“I can’t explain what heaven looked like because it’s so much more amazing than we can imagine,” she said. Then, a group of angels led her deeper into the afterlife.
“There’s no fear, just pure joy when the angels are with you,” she continued. “I saw my mom, my dad, my sister, and other family members standing behind them.”

Write this in easy human language:
“I seen saints of old,” the mum explained. “They didn’t look old, they didn’t look sick, none of them wore glasses. They looked like they were in their 30s. Yet it says in the scriptures, ‘we will be known as we were known’.
“I knew them there in their new bodies. They looked wonderful.”
Charlotte then revealed that she saw a toddler, which left her quite confused.
She said: “I can remember thinking, ‘who is this?’ And I heard my heavenly father say to me, ‘It’s your child.’
“I lost that child. I was five-and-a-half months pregnant. I can remember them holding the baby up and saying, ‘Charlotte, it’s a boy’. Then he was gone. So when I seen this toddler, I said, ‘God, how is that possible?’
“He said, ‘They continue to grow in heaven – but there’s no time, it’s eternity’.”
Charlotte then claimed that she was taken to a place that was the complete opposite of the paradise she had just enjoyed.
“God took me to hell, and I looked down and the smell, and the rotten flesh – that’s what it smelled like…and screams,” she explained. “After seeing the beauty of heaven, the contrast to seeing hell is almost unbearable.”
Detailing why she was taken there, Charlotte said: “And he says, ‘I show you this to tell you, if some of them do not change their ways, this is where they shall reside.’ I heard my father say, ‘You have time to go back and share’.”
She then described how she felt herself being ‘drawn back into’ her body, while Danny noticed her eye twitched.
Charlotte – who went on to make a full recovery and was released from hospital after two weeks – said: “I felt the pain, where I hadn’t felt pain, I felt the sorrow.”
Following her near-death experience, she decided to share her incredible story with others.
“People need hope,” Charlotte said. “They want to know that there really is something out there, they want to know that everything’s okay. Heaven is more than you can imagine.
“I can look you square in the eye and tell you for sure, heaven is real.”
According to The Ozark County Times, Charlotte passed away on November 28, 2023, at the age of 72 after suffering a heart attack. She was survived by her husband of 52 years and their daughter Chrystal, as well as her grandchildren.
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