At My Husband’s Funeral, I Opened His Casket to Place a Flower and Found a Crumpled Note Tucked Under His Hands
His name was Greg—Raymond Gregory on paperwork, but just Greg to me. We were married for 36 years. No drama. No fairytale. Just a quiet life built on grocery lists, car maintenance, and his habit of choosing the outer seat in restaurants “in case some idiot drove through the window.” Then, on a rainy Tuesday, … Lire la suite