At my husband’s funeral, I was barely holding myself together—much less ready to explain death to our daughter. But the real pain came later, when my mother-in-law showed up at our house and calmly told me to leave. I hadn’t even started to grieve, and already I was being pushed away as if I didn’t belong.
I stood by the grave, gripping Ellie’s small hand like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.
I held on so tightly I worried I might hurt her—but I couldn’t let go.
Not of her. Not of him. Not of that moment.
The casket lay still in the earth. Flowers sat quietly in the breeze. Part of me kept waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say this was all a terrible mistake—that he wasn’t really gone and would walk back through the door any second.
But no one came.
Ellie tugged on my sleeve, her eyes wide with innocent confusion.
“Mama,” she whispered, voice trembling, “why are they putting dirt on Daddy? How will he go to work tomorrow?”
I tried to speak, but no words came. I didn’t know how to explain it—not to her, not even to myself. How do you make sense of someone so full of life suddenly being gone?
Back at home, the silence was overwhelming. The house smelled of sympathy meals—ham, casseroles, baked goods—but I couldn’t bring myself to eat any of it.
My best friend Abby knelt beside Ellie, gave me a gentle look, and said, “Go ahead. Take a break. I’ll watch her.”
I drifted into the bedroom like a ghost, closed the door, took two steps, and collapsed onto the floor.
Face buried in the blankets, I let out loud, raw sobs—cries that felt like they might tear me apart inside.
Then I heard the door open.
I looked up, eyes swollen and blurry from tears.
It was Linda.
My mother-in-law.
Wearing her usual neat sweater and pants, she looked like she was just dropping by for coffee—expressionless and composed.
She crossed the room, sat at the edge of the bed, and placed her cold, unmoving hand over mine.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly, her voice flat.
I stared at her, unsure how to react.
Then she added, “I think it’s time for you and Ellie to find somewhere else to stay. The sooner, the better.”
At first, I thought I had misunderstood, but the look in her eyes told me otherwise.
I sat up, stunned, my heart pounding.
The funeral hadn’t even been a day ago.
And already, she was pushing us out.