After My Husband Died, My MIL Donated All My Furniture While I Was in the Hospital – Karma Didn’t Just Knock, It Kicked the Door Down

Then Calder died. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit my husband’s car head-on on his way home from work. One minute, I was reheating leftover pasta, debating whether to watch a show or just go to bed.

The next minute, I was on my kitchen floor screaming into my phone while a stranger explained that my husband would never walk through our door again. I was too crushed to remember the funeral. I don’t remember who hugged me or what I wore.

I barely remember the first two weeks at all. Grief doesn’t ask for permission when it walks in. What I do remember is waking up in a hospital bed with IVs in my arms.

My body was finally shutting down from grief, dehydration, and shock that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel. While I was hospitalized, my mother-in-law, Marjorie, made an impossible decision. I didn’t know it yet.

I was still asking nurses what day it was. Still waking up crying because I thought I heard Calder in the hallway. Still begging to go “home” like a child who’d gotten lost.

Three days in, a nurse brought me my phone. It had dozens of missed calls. Texts I couldn’t focus on.

Continue reading…