Moving into a new house was supposed to be an exciting experience. Unpacking boxes and filling your new house with pictures and food and books and things. Breathing in the fresh air of a freshly cleaned carpet, it smelled like lavender. My kids came through the door to the house behind me, carrying a small box with some of their belongings inside.
I watched as they ran up the stairs to explore their new bedrooms. The look of excitement on their faces filled me with delight. I hadn't seen them this happy since before their father died. They were gloomy around our old apartment. And how could I possibly blame them, I was having difficulty myself having my love taken away from me. I felt even worse for my poor kids, they had a family member, someone they looked up to and wanted to be like some day, just ripped out of their lives. There's no amount of hugs that can fix their broken hearts.
We ended up having to sell move because we couldn't afford to live there anymore. We moved in with my parents for a little while. The kids were unhappy because they had to share a room with me for a few months. They eventually got used to it. It didn't make anything any easier, but we managed.
After a couple months went by, working two jobs to hopefully put my kids and I back into a place we could be happy, I received a letter in the mail. One that made very little sense. Apparently my husband had a house he didn't tell anyone about until after his passing, they looked through his files and found this house he had fully paid off for 'my future family' to move into.
I had no words. What was I supposed to think? He had a house fully paid off and yet we lived in an apartment? I wasn't upset about it, it just made very little sense. Perhaps it was going to be a surprise? I had no way to tell. So after a few days, we packed our things and made our way to the new house my husband had left for us.
That night I heard a noise coming from across the hallway, from the kids' room. It sounded like they were giggling and having fun. I was so glad they could finally find a reason to be happy. I smiled from the kitchen counter as I sat before my laptop, writing a short story. I write children's books as a little hobby of mine. I dream that one day one of my works can be in the hands and read aloud by parents to help drift their child off to sleep.
I nearly jumped when I heard my kids beside me, calling for me. I turned to them with a smile. "What is it, kids?"
"Daddy gave us cotton candy!" They both said aloud, laughing as they did so. I was glad to hear that, however I was completely confused by what they had just told me. "What do you mean daddy gave you cotton candy?"
They told me to follow them, so I did. Up the stairs and turning the corner to their room. There stood their dad. I couldn't believe my eyes. I rubbed my eyes, and he vanished from sight. I continued to examine the room in hopes he would have gone somewhere else in the room. He wasn't there.
My jaw nearly dropped when I saw the wallpaper peeled back, revealing pink insolation poking through. The kids grabbed another handful and stuffed it in their mouth. I ran to them as quickly as I could to fish it out. They both began to cough. And cough. And cough. Until the only thing coming out of their mouths was blood. I picked them up and ran to my car, hurrying to the hospital. I lost my husband, I'm not about to lose my babies too...
I watched as they ran up the stairs to explore their new bedrooms. The look of excitement on their faces filled me with delight. I hadn't seen them this happy since before their father died. They were gloomy around our old apartment. And how could I possibly blame them, I was having difficulty myself having my love taken away from me. I felt even worse for my poor kids, they had a family member, someone they looked up to and wanted to be like some day, just ripped out of their lives. There's no amount of hugs that can fix their broken hearts.
We ended up having to sell move because we couldn't afford to live there anymore. We moved in with my parents for a little while. The kids were unhappy because they had to share a room with me for a few months. They eventually got used to it. It didn't make anything any easier, but we managed.
After a couple months went by, working two jobs to hopefully put my kids and I back into a place we could be happy, I received a letter in the mail. One that made very little sense. Apparently my husband had a house he didn't tell anyone about until after his passing, they looked through his files and found this house he had fully paid off for 'my future family' to move into.
I had no words. What was I supposed to think? He had a house fully paid off and yet we lived in an apartment? I wasn't upset about it, it just made very little sense. Perhaps it was going to be a surprise? I had no way to tell. So after a few days, we packed our things and made our way to the new house my husband had left for us.
That night I heard a noise coming from across the hallway, from the kids' room. It sounded like they were giggling and having fun. I was so glad they could finally find a reason to be happy. I smiled from the kitchen counter as I sat before my laptop, writing a short story. I write children's books as a little hobby of mine. I dream that one day one of my works can be in the hands and read aloud by parents to help drift their child off to sleep.
I nearly jumped when I heard my kids beside me, calling for me. I turned to them with a smile. "What is it, kids?"
"Daddy gave us cotton candy!" They both said aloud, laughing as they did so. I was glad to hear that, however I was completely confused by what they had just told me. "What do you mean daddy gave you cotton candy?"
They told me to follow them, so I did. Up the stairs and turning the corner to their room. There stood their dad. I couldn't believe my eyes. I rubbed my eyes, and he vanished from sight. I continued to examine the room in hopes he would have gone somewhere else in the room. He wasn't there.
My jaw nearly dropped when I saw the wallpaper peeled back, revealing pink insolation poking through. The kids grabbed another handful and stuffed it in their mouth. I ran to them as quickly as I could to fish it out. They both began to cough. And cough. And cough. Until the only thing coming out of their mouths was blood. I picked them up and ran to my car, hurrying to the hospital. I lost my husband, I'm not about to lose my babies too...
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