Month: November 2024

MY HUSBAND’S GRAVESTONE WAS REPEATEDLY COVERED IN RAW EGGS – ONE MORNING, I MET THE CULPRIT & SHOUTED, “ALL THIS TIME, IT WAS YOU?” A year ago, my husband of 25 years, Owen passed away suddenly — a heart attack, no warning. He always said he’d be here for the long haul, but life had other plans. Every Sunday, I visit his grave to feel connected to the man I loved. But something started to feel off. One afternoon, I found raw eggs smashed all over Owen’s gravestone. I thought it must be kids messing around, but it happened again. And again. Each time, I cleaned it up, wondering why anyone would desecrate a grave, a place of peace. The cemetery security was no help. They told me to file reports, but nothing changed. On a Saturday morning, a year since Owen passed, I couldn’t sleep. I decided to visit his grave before dawn. The air was cool, the world still, and for a moment, I felt peace — until I saw it. The eggshells. And a figure by his grave. She stood, egg in hand, ready to throw. The crack echoed in the silence. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I yelled, running toward her. She froze and turned slowly. “YOU… YOU’VE BEEN THE ONE DOING THIS?” I asked, almost screaming. “WHY?”⬇️

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Last updated on April 3rd, 2024 at 09:11 pm History is more than just innovations and triumphs. In truth, much of it involves numerous instances of brutality, warfare, and other …

MY HUSBAND’S GRAVESTONE WAS REPEATEDLY COVERED IN RAW EGGS – ONE MORNING, I MET THE CULPRIT & SHOUTED, “ALL THIS TIME, IT WAS YOU?” A year ago, my husband of 25 years, Owen passed away suddenly — a heart attack, no warning. He always said he’d be here for the long haul, but life had other plans. Every Sunday, I visit his grave to feel connected to the man I loved. But something started to feel off. One afternoon, I found raw eggs smashed all over Owen’s gravestone. I thought it must be kids messing around, but it happened again. And again. Each time, I cleaned it up, wondering why anyone would desecrate a grave, a place of peace. The cemetery security was no help. They told me to file reports, but nothing changed. On a Saturday morning, a year since Owen passed, I couldn’t sleep. I decided to visit his grave before dawn. The air was cool, the world still, and for a moment, I felt peace — until I saw it. The eggshells. And a figure by his grave. She stood, egg in hand, ready to throw. The crack echoed in the silence. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I yelled, running toward her. She froze and turned slowly. “YOU… YOU’VE BEEN THE ONE DOING THIS?” I asked, almost screaming. “WHY?”⬇️ Read More