Scenes that were emotionally resonant without being the main focus or always highlighted.
Season 1: Tractor thanking Emma for being a good influence on Sean Season 2: JT fighting Dean after she shared with him Season 3: Sean confessing that he stole Snake’s computer and offering to fix the car Season 4: JT going to Rick’s funeral and making up with Toby Season 5: Jimmy & Spinner making up Season 6: Liberty agreeing to play Mia’s video during the funeral Season 7: Jimmy getting Spinner to go have surgery when he has cancer instead of fighting Season 8: Spinner’s pep talk to Holly J after she’s kicked off Power Squad Season 9: Johnny confessing his feelings for Jenna when she tried to seduce him Season 10: KC’s Mom defending him from Simpson and telling him he doesn’t have to go home with her Season 11: KC & Jenna giving up Ty season 12: Zig & Tori making up after he dines and dashes Season 13: Zig & Zoe talking on the bus Season 14: Tiny telling Zig they did the right thing after he snitches on Vince NC 1: Grace & Zoe talking about her illness NC 2: Hunter apologizing to Yael NC 3: Esme & Zig making up and sharing about her Mom NC 4: Winston & Goldi making up

I, 38 F, recently lost my grandpa. (Don't be sad, he was 86 and one day just woke up in Heaven.) My grandma had already passed 9 years ago.
The best way to understand this situation is to explain our family dynamics. My grandma was actually my step- grandma, although we never used those terms. There was never 'step' anything. I'll only use the term to explain my plight. My (bio) grandpa had 4 daughters & 9 grandchildren. My (step) grandma had 2 sons, 1 daughter, & 3 grandchildren. As I said, there was never a separation of anything. My grandparents were married for 40 years before my grandma's passing. We were all just one big family.
Now flash back to grandma's passing. Her obituary read more or less as above. All of her children and grandchildren listed as such. Not a mention of step family.
Now back to grandpa's passing. He passed away and my mom and aunts made the plans for the funeral, including writing the obituary. It was posted online to the funeral home website immediately. The first thing I noticed was there was no mention of anyone but my grandma from that half of the family. It was as if my grandma came into the family as a single, childless woman. I called my mom and said I saw the post and it seemed incomplete. She said it was done as it was supposed to be. I asked if grandpa had ever said he didn't want them mentioned. She said again that's how it's supposed to be. I was shocked. Soon messages started coming to me from my cousin's, both bio & step asking why all those family members were left out. I didn't know how to reply.
Two days later we all were at the funeral. My mom pulled me aside and asked that I read the obituary out loud during the funeral. I said sure. I only had a few minutes to prepare but I grabbed a pen and jotted down notes on my copy. I got up to read it and I inserted all the names that has been skipped. As I was reading I glanced around the room. Tears and appreciative nods came from my (step) family. Harsh looks and daggers came from my mom and aunts. After the funeral I was bombarded by thank yous from my step family. All I got from my mom and aunts was "How could you?" & "How dare you?" I simply said I did what I felt grandpa would have wanted and left it at that.
Now it's been a few weeks and my aunt's are still pissed and haven't said a word to me. My mom has maintained a bit of contact, but each time makes sure I know that I was totally out of line for disrespecting my grandpa like that. I told her I was going to need an explanation as to why they felt it was wrong. I have never gotten anything.
So, now I ask. Since you all have all the information I do, am I the asshole for changing my grandpa's obituary during the funeral?
***Update** As it seems these are the commonly asked questions, I'll clear these up. I really don't think the issue stems around money. My grandparents had money set aside for their funerals so no one was out anything making the preparations. As far as inheritance goes everything had already been decided upon by my grandparents. The life insurance policies and the pension payouts were to be split equally. The other question is whether there was infidelity that got my grandparents together. The answer is no. I actually have no idea what happened to my grandma's first husband. I think he passed but I don't really know for sure on that. I do know that he was far out of the picture before she ever met my grandpa. My bio grandmother was a drug addict that my grandpa divorced when the girls were ages 10-16. So they were very aware of the situations that led to being raised by my grandpa. In that situation no one misses their mother. The only children that lived at home after my grandparents got married were my two youngest aunts and they were age 16 and 17. All of the rest of the children were adults and out on their own.

Logic system overhaul/improvements. Current system is tedious and a pain to do, even for relatively small builds. Even just having the ability to filter out logic points that are already connected would greatly improve the system across the board, ideally an advanced filter system would be added, such as creating groups, filtering parts, etc. The need to not only use but also create microcontrollers for instrument panels feels excessive and unnecessary. Simplifying panels, or giving the option of a simplified instrument panel that does not need to use a microcontroller, would go far in decreasing the games barrier to entry.
Built in GPS maps. The fact that this game does not have a built in GPS map, like those tom tom gps map things you see on older cars is absurd when career mode’s map doesn’t show where you are on the map. And before anyone says that it’s “realistic”, if fishing boats in the Bering Sea can have a GPS map during rough weather, I see no reason why a SAR vehicle wouldn’t have such basic equipment. The current career mode’s starter boat is kinda useless at the starting base for this reason, there aren’t many landmarks out in the ocean, and I shouldn’t have to use the workshop just to make the base boat functional.
Radio console. A simple premade radio console with knobs and such would also be nice and simplify a decent amount of logic.
Custom window, wedge, and pyramid dimensions and/or more of these blocks in general, and make them more customizable (ie changing the windows color to green or putting designs on wedges and pyramids)
Small boats keep water out, don’t need a closed volume to be buoyant
Sails
18th century weaponry
Life rafts
Emergency inflatable slides (for planes)
Gliding
Oars
Premade vehicles for every basic need you have in game. There should be basic, cheap, premade cars/trucks, boats, etc that can fulfill most of everything you would need to do in game. Nothing particularly fancy, just simple builds that can easily supplanted by custom creations that can serve as references for your own builds or be stopgap measures until you build replacements.
Search and Recovery. Unfortunately, not every SAR operation is successful. Missions about recovering remains would be nice and can add a decent bit of variety. For example, maybe a hiker found a body in a hard to reach place in the mountains, and because of that an offroad vehicle or aircraft is needed to get there, diving on a wreck to recover remains, or recovering a car from a lake. Other missions could also be diving for investigation critical components, such as black boxes or voyage data recorders, or even specific components that investigators want to find.
More in depth rescue/injury mechanics. Stuff like sprained ankles, injuries, pregnancy status, health conditions, etc, requiring different things to heal/stabilize. This would also add a sense of urgency to each SAR mission, as now you can’t solve/delay everything by throwing a first aid kit at it. Maybe the local hospital doesn’t have the facilities to treat a time sensitive, so you have to transport the patient to a bigger hospital. Dealing with things like hyperthermia would also be nice.
Boat materials (wood/metal/polymer)
Amenities and furniture in general.
Logging industry
Fishing industry
Debris
Other SAR teams/companies to have a presence in the world and are able to be called upon if needed.
Nuclear reactor disaster
More variety and depth for SAR missions, such as an aircraft ditching in the harbor, an aircraft going missing and having to search for it, recovering lifeboats, a nuclear powered ship sinking and having to deal with the radiation, chemical tankers releasing toxic chemicals into the water, sinking an adrift vessel, stopping an illegal salvage operation etc. A cool idea would be to add in the possibility for major accidents to happen, such as a cruise ship capsizing, a nuclear powered ship sinking, or a military aircraft armed with a nuclear warhead being lost over the ocean. Another cool idea would be to add interviews with accident investigation teams after some accidents, such as when a ship sinks because of poor maintenance about what you saw. Obviously, the interviews should only occur for more major accidents and when the player could actually have relevant information. There could also be complications for missions, such as the ship still moving and unable to be stopped, the whole crew is incapacitated, etc.
In the same vein as no 22, an overhaul of Search And Destroy as it pertains to the overworld would also be nice. Instead of simply having an AI that fights the player, how about having 2 major factions that fight each other, the local military and an invading military, with the option of creating your own faction to take over the islands. This would differ from the previous system by making it so that you would complete orders issued to you, such as patrolling a specific area, engaging a fleet, mining or demining a waterway, etc. At first, you start out doing gruntwork, but as you move up in rank the more you can do, such as sending grunts to do the gruntwork for you. You could also give the option for the player to make their own faction Another thing that could be added are pirates and pirate gameplay. SAD could also add in new missions and disasters, such as disarming mines from the second world war, serial killers, hijacking attempts, a fire at a munitions dump, etc. You can have a lot of fun in regards to disasters and special missions too, such as cleaning up a munitions dumping ground (like what the Norwegian military did, dumping thousands of tons of munitions into a river) or a sunken supply ship detonating (like that one off the coast of England) and dealing with the after effects of that.
Hiring AI to do things for you, such as a doctor to administer medical assistance to survivors, a captain to drive a boat, SAR divers to recover people from the sea for you, etc.
Passenger playstyle. Ferrying passengers around feels like a logical next step in the game, with factors such as reliability, how fast you can get to destinations, feats (ie having the fastest passenger ferry in the world even if it does not operate at that speed regularly or having the biggest ferry, etc), price per ticket, amenities(free or paid movie theatre, comfy seats, concession stands, is the interior a comfortable temperature, is there a barbershop and if so is it any good, etc) and necessities (do you have enough seats, is there a bathroom, do you have enough life preservers, if it’s overnight, do you have any beds etc). Options to run excursions with famous or historic ships, simple cruises/excursions to places around the islands would be nice too.
Expansion of delivery and miner playstyles. Expansion of these playstyles, such as hiring AI to do parts of the job, either as employees or contracting out another company to, say, transport coal from your mine to the powerplant would go a long way to fleshing out these playstyles. You can even have the option to do smuggling runs of illegal or illicit goods. Smaller deliveries that can be handled with a van, or doing mail runs would be cool as well as oversized delivery missions. Increasing the variety of cargo to transport, such as transporting locomotives and/or cars for export would be cool.
Terminal loading cranes.
A R&D mode which would allow for quick and easy analysis of a creation where you get raw numbers on a ship’s current tilt, balance, engine performance, etc with the ability to easily change the weather and conditions of the environment and easily switch to build mode.
Shipwrights. The idea here would be to overhaul building mechanics as it relates to career mode. Instead of being able to instantly build everything, how you can modify your vessel is limited to what your facilities can do. To get a brand-new ship, you would have to commission it from a shipwright. Before commission, you would have access to R&D mode to fully test out the vessal. Where the fun part really begins is that you can have an entire playstyle built around receiving commissions for ships by the AI (or even other players) for a desired vessel within x specifications at a cost of x amount for x amount of vessels within x timeframe with a bedroom made out of 50% windows at a height of x feet, or even upgrade/modify preexisting vessels as part of a commission or to flip on the market, buying older vessels of varying states and giving them a new lease on life. How many ships you can produce at a given time would depend on your facilities, which can be upgraded. Of course, there would be aircraft and land vehicle equivalents. You can even see the ships you produced doing their job in the world.
Salvaging. Another playstyle that I feel would be a next step for Stormworks would be salvaging vessels either for scrap, refurbish them for resale, restoration into a museum piece, or simply to clear a waterway. You could even give the option to illegally salvage shipwrecks.
Survey missions
Survival suits
Crabbing
Flooding disaster
Hurricane and super storm disasters
Air conditioning
Other ships coming to assist vessels in distress.
Tropical islands
Blimps, zepplins, and hot air balloons.
Naming vehicles
Rogue waves
Supernatural phenomenon. My idea for this is that you would have two categories of phenomenon, explicable and inexplicable. Explicable phenomena would be phenomena that have scientific explanations for them, things such as ghost lights with scientific explanations behind them, maybe have some missions where you disprove the supernatural. Having everything be explicable, however, can be underwhelming so actual supernatural phenomena, such as fleshgaits (especially with SAR being the core theme of Stormworks), ghost ships, or alien encounters, especially if mechanics, such as SAR, are incorporated in it. Like, imagine a seemingly normal SAR mission turning out to be the rescue of aliens from a crashed spaceship and you have to transport them to a drop off point where the MiB is waiting, or a mission where you first set out to debunk the supernatural to then be assailed by the flying dutchman.
More doors, buttons, ladders, stairs and hatches (ie: a traditional house door, car doors, glass hatches, etc)
Panels that can be used as signs or “hatches” for otherwise external equipment (ie in order to access a fire extinguisher you have to open a hatch first, im sure there is a better word for it but I can’t think of it)
Moonpools
Pools
More buildable/modifiable properties, especially for terminals. Could be expanded with the ability to flip properties.
Races
Competing manufacturers of equipment and engines that have varying strengths and weaknesses that improve as time goes. This would also make the game more accessible by giving new players the ability to easily access better engines while also rewarding those who learn how modular engines work by allowing them to jump ahead of the AI. Perhaps a system where you can lease or even produce your own engine designs could be implemented to further reward and encourage using modular engines.
If the game becomes comprehensive enough, the ability to change which era you play in (1700s, 1800s, 1940s, etc) would be a really cool addition by adding in technological challenges of older eras. Additionally, there could be supernatural phenomena that isekai vehicles to and from different time periods, which could add in a whole variety of interesting missions and challenges.
Built-in couplers for trains
Wind having an effect on the player (exiting an aircraft and standing on its wing should result in you being yeeted off the aircraft)
Pressurization
Ingame tutorials like what From The Depths has
A better openworld, NPCs, and RP experiences. The world of Stormworks feels very much dead, which is a shame because that is it’s biggest selling point for me over other building games like simple planes. It gives a reason for all the vehicles being built beyond simply being cool, you can actually DO things with it. I would recommend solving this by:
Create actual population centers. Not huge cities, but small towns dotted across the islands with actual businesses and populations would go a long way to improving the game world, maybe have one or two cities on the island itself so we can do stuff with skyscrapers.
Global traffic of personal, commercial, and government boats, aircrafts and land vehicles would go a long way to making the world feel less empty. Having npcs use a dedicated radio channel for chatter, and which you can interact with them through would be great. This traffic responds to ingame events, for example increased outgoing road traffic when a disaster is about to hit
More realistic roads
Navigation signs, buoys, etc
NPCs operating gas stations, bridges, and industries in general.
Relating to one, make NPCs not only interactable beyond being glorified money bags, but also interact with their environment. Such as trying to move away from fires, calling for help when they see a vehicle, moving towards a stopped SAR vehicle and climbing aboard, getting inside a vehicle of their own volition or swimming to shore when they are literally meters away instead of staying in the water and/or burning boat. Having NPCs interact with the player as well would also be great, such as thanking you for saving their lives, buying the player a beer as thanks if they meet in a bar, etc would be nice. Ideally, there would be a number of persistent npcs who have names, personalities and backstories. Such as Joe, an old sea captain who’s vessel is painted pink in memory of his 6 year old daughter who disappeared, and, if he thinks his vessel is about to sink, will desire to go down with the ship and be resistant to his personal rescue.
Consequences for your actions visible in game. For example, if a casualty becomes a fatality, there is a funeral service held at the graveyard.
NPCs having varying fluencies in English
Missions with storylines attached to them, such as an archaeologist searching for Atlantis, or a group of sailors looking to raise the cargo ship they worked on after it sunk.
Radio music channels
TV channels, can also have a gameplay effect through amenities
Newspaper with an obituary, some fluff news stories, generic articles, state of the economy, ships launched, details regarding the SAR missions you did or didn’t do, in game events, etc.
Unmarked missions, for example lets say Captain Joe’s ship sinks, but Joe survives. Joe is depressed, but if you go out of your way to salvage and repair Joe’s ship and give it back to him he will be happy.
NPC backstories being more then just a text in a box, perhaps a mission leads to you finding Captain Joe’s daughter, alive or dead leading to either a heart warming reunion or somber closure.
News interviews
Points of interest, such as abandoned buildings, natural wonders, historical locations, museums, heritage railroads, businesses etc with lore surrounding them and special missions for that location. For example, lets say there is a hot air balloon tour operation. There would be a few special missions pertaining to hot air balloons in that location. Or for the heritage railroad, their engineer called in sick so they need someone to fill in for the day.
Flavor for missions, for example maybe a family of four reported in the burning boat and watch you put out the fires
NPCs react like real people in the sense of physiological reactions, such as grieving, becoming frozen in shock, mental breakdowns etc.
All disasters have effects (when applicable) in the overworld, such as destroyed homes, ships transported inland, etc. Having missions pertaining to the aftermath, such as removing large debris from roads and tracks to recovering missing persons.
Visual deterioration of abandoned/sunk/crashed vehicles
NPCs may try to take advantage of disasters, such as by robbing people on a sinking ship, looting buildings after a disaster, etc
NPCs may panic and act irrationally when in a disaster, such as taking life jackets away from women and children, releasing lifeboats/liferafts early, etc
Skills and attributes, such as consoling, leadership, physical fitness, bartering, etc

That’s my wishlist for now. I know it’s a lot, and some of it may seem to be a bit much, but I don’t think any single thing is out of the realm of reasonable possibility. The biggest appeal of Stormworks, at least to me, over competitors such as Simpleplanes is that there is a purpose behind what you build. I think that if Stormworks were to expand on RPG elements it would not only greatly elevate the game as is, but also expand the audience while enhancing the core experience.

Please see my previous post for the whole story, but tl;dr my estranged dad left me a note in my mailbox that my estranged mom died.
I never contacted my Uncle (NMom’s brother) as the note instructed. A few days later he showed up AT MY HOUSE. I was caught off guard and didn’t answer the door. I figured my silence would’ve sent the message that I wanted no parts of this. When he left, there was another note to tell me to call the funeral home for her arrangements. I called the funeral home directly and was informed that they needed me to sign off on her cremation forms. Medicaid covered her cremation, but her family also wanted a viewing and a service (which is what they needed my permission to do and also pay for).
I wouldn’t have been contacted otherwise. Shitty, but not surprising.
The funeral home was wonderful to me and said that her family “isn’t entitled to anything” and they are not “the decision makers” I am. I said no to the funeral and everything else and they informed her family for me. They called me when her ashes came in and I picked them up. If anyone thinks I’m being petty here, yes I am. The audacity to not just leave me alone. When my younger brother died, my Nmom and her family went to the funeral home and made all the arrangements without consulting my dad and I- but had them send my dad the bill. Spelled my son’s name wrong in the obituary too. None of them including Nmom paid a dime, my dad and I did. So this was my payback.
I’ll be sending her ashes to my estranged Aunt in another state. What I was told from her son (also doesn’t talk to anyone like I do) was that none of my NMom’s brothers even called her to inform her that she had died. Hence cementing my suspicions they only contacted me to do something for them. My aunt will get her ashes and if the rest of her shitty family wants to see them or ask for some they’ll have to call their sister and probably explain themselves. From what I hear she’s really pissed. Whatever, it’s off my plate now and not my problem.
I found out where she lived and contacted her landlord to ask if anyone has been in touch to clean out her apartment. He said that my uncles have been but he needed my permission. My uncles haven’t contacted me any further because I’m assuming they’re pissed off I shit all over their funeral plans and we’re trying to figure out a way around this without informing me. I did give the landlord permission for them to clean out her space. They’re greedy but what they don’t realize is that my mother didn’t have anything of value, she sold anything for drugs years ago. They can do the legwork and pick the scraps and fight amongst each other. I don’t want anything of hers anyway. I am listed on her death certificate and I’ll be closing her bank accounts tomorrow. There’s probably very little if anything in there anyway, but they won’t get to have it. I’ll be using it for the shipping fee for her ashes.
I’m doing okay though.

I´ve been thinking about posting this for a while now. Throwaway account for reasons you will come to understand quite clearly. It’s gonna be a long one so pls bear with me, this is the story (history) of one of the most painful parts of my life and I could really use some help. I’ve been thinking on going no contact with my mother (60) who I will refer to as M., for a really long time now. The communication with M. has been really seldom for maybe 8 years now and I haven’t confided in her with any problems or advice in over 15y. A little back story: I (35 F) grew up in a medium class family, private schools and university, etc. I mention this because I believe its one of the reasons making me feel guilty, as if granting food, clothes, a home and education had created “debt” I will always carry with my parents, mainly because my mother constantly made my sister and I aware of that. Dad worked long hours but he was my rock through my childhood and adolescence. He passed away, did it himself a couple years ago, but that’s a story for another post. So since I can remember my mother made me responsible of caring for my sister who is 5 years younger than me. The fact that my sister has a psychiatric condition made it a little harder i believe, thou she’s not disabled or anything (she’s one of my best friends now) it was extremely challenging to be around and/or control her as a kid/ teenager. Every time my sister would make her nervous she would call me and shout and demanded I come back or handle the situation being a kid myself.
She never made me feel accepted, understood or welcomed being myself. She just showed affection the way she likes to give/receive it, not caring that I never felt comfortable with it. She would shout she hatted me, that im stupid, that she never expected a daughter like me. All this in the “heat of the moment” while she was angry. She also physically abused us (hitting us with her hands mainly). She stopped this one day that I stood up and took her wrists in my hands, preventing her punches (I was finally taller and stronger than her). That night she was angry ‘cause I wasn’t talking and my face made her nervous while dinner. she through me out and I went to my dads. I was 13 y/o.
So, to more recent events: the ones that really took me to a breaking point where two: 1, My dad was in a ver bad car crash (they were divorced since 3 years by then and we had had a fallen out, he was depressive and an alcoholic his entire life but I still loved him with all my life), this was in 2015. I was living in this other city and my dad was in the ICU so I called her and told her I was gonna come to see him and that a coworker whom I was dating (not officially) at the time offered to take me there (4hs car ride). So she proceeded to shout during more than 2hrs over the phone, the most horrible things I ever heard in my life. Stating I was not welcomed in her house with my coworker cause he was my 3rd “boyfriend” “already “and that she didn’t see the point on me risking my life in the highway for a man who didn’t even care if I was dead or alive ‘cause he refused to talk to me, that man being my dad. All of the time I was bawling my eyes out. You know when you cry so hard you have trouble breathing? 2, about two years later my dad ended himself and since they were divorced my sister and I were the solely responsible for everything. I mean I even payed for the funeral and arrange it while being in another country (holidays) while looking for ways to get back. As I mentioned before, my dad was wealthy (yes, that does not save you from being miserable) so after some months I made up my mind to sell all his properties and means of income. But I needed my sister’s approval on everything. So M. Decided to do an “intervention” on me with my sister present (who just kept staring at the floor) and shouted, on Christmas Day btw, that I was being irresponsible, a little brat who had no idea about life and that I had always been pedantic and ungrateful. Just bc she was not ok with me selling his things. I have many more things to share, but I don’t wanna make this endless for you.
M. Loves to pick fights, argue and she goes completely crazy and violent if you so much as disagree. She hates her own mom (my only grandma whom I love) and would constantly monitor me if I was visiting her. She has complete disregard of one’s feelings or opinions. I have asked her to go to a psychologist countless times, each time receiving either screams or disregards as answer. I’ve been in therapy for over a decade now and my sister for more than 3 years.
Truth is the only reasons I haven’t follow through with NC are plain guilt and the fact that I come from a country where going NC is almost none existent. Family is never questioned. So this would be completely “unexpected”. Going low contact she can disguise, but NC no.
I am certain with the years she has come to acknowledge the distance my sister and I have taken from her, but she lives in a fantasy-like alternate reality where we all love and miss each others. My sister was always her golden child, so she didn’t really care about me distancing until sister did, to be honest. But now she’s old and alone and she’s not doing well (mentally, physically she’s excellent). And all I can think of is, why do I still pick up the phone when she calls? It’s not out of love to be completely honest, it’s guilt. Guilt bc she believed she made her best, guilt bc she’s not a sane person and guilt bc if I cut contact, I’m afraid she will not really understand the motives.
If you’ve come this far, THANK YOU. Any response will be much appreciated.

I’m 9 weeks FTM, and we hadn’t told anyone yet. The only reason she knew is because I passed on wine and charcuterie at a family dinner two weeks ago and she guessed. We confirmed her suspicions, but told her under no circumstances should she tell anyone else. At the time, I hadn’t even been to the doctor to confirm.
My husbands aunt passed away not unexpectedly on Saturday, they posted the obituary (that MIL wrote) today and in the section talking about family it says “aunt to XYZ, and soon to be great aunt to the child of husband and jonesinjosie”. I was at work, hadn’t seen the obituary, and had no idea until his family’s group chat and the Facebook post started blowing up with people congratulating us and asking if we’re pregnant. Then (because people were tagging us in the comments on Facebook), all of my family and all of our friends saw it and now they know as well.
I’m just so sad. I had a cute way planned to tell my parents, and instead they found out from a social media post. It’s our first and the first grandchild on both sides, so I was really excited and looking forward to telling people in person and seeing their reactions. I’m also just not comfortable with people finding out this early, I’m terrified that something is going to happen, we haven’t even had our dating ultrasound yet. My husband talked to his mom and told her that really wasn’t okay, and her response was sort of “I didn’t realize it would be a big deal, but there’s nothing we can do now”. I don’t even feel like I can be upset with her because she is grieving the loss of her sister, but I also feel like she took something away from me that I can’t get back. How big of a deal do I make about this?
Update: I can’t possibly reply to all of you lovely people, but thank you for validating my rage 😅 all of your kind words make me feel not so alone. This has definitely been a wake up call to who my MIL actually is.
She is NOT normally like this, she is normally so lovely, which is why I was trying to have a little grace with her. I was able to talk to my husband after he came home from work, and he is just as devastated as I am. He lost his dad when he was really young, so he’s very close to mine and was so excited to tell him. We decided to call her together and explain exactly why what she did was so hurtful. She sobbed the entire phone call and tried to claim that she didn’t know we hadn’t told my parents, which neither of us believe and we told her as much and that even if she really thought that, it was still not her place to announce it. She asked us repeatedly if we could forgive her, to which we gave a resounding no and told her not only can we not forgive her, we can no longer trust her. We basically ended the call by telling her we don’t really want to talk to her right now, and to please not contact us until we reach out.
My husband also sent this text to his family’s group chat, which obviously his mom is in: “Hello all. Thank you so much for all of the love and congratulations. We are expecting, but it is still very early in the pregnancy and this is not how or when we wanted everyone to find out. To be very honest, this is how jonesinjosie’s parents found out, and we are both quite upset about that. We so appreciate and love all of you, but kindly ask that we be given a bit of space for now and at the funeral this weekend, as we are still processing the disappointment of not being able to tell everyone in our own way.”

TLDR: I’m in the UK I don’t know how to find any of this out. I don’t remember his birthday or the know the date and cause of death. I only have his name and address. No one will tell me anything and it’s making my grieving process so so much harder I don’t know what to do.
The relationship with my Dad has been frosty. I was being abused by my sisters so I stood my ground with them and refused to attend family functions until they acknowledged their behaviour was abusive. My Dad wasn’t happy with this and felt I should retain my place as the family scapegoat. He stopped talking to me meaning I couldn’t easily retain contact with my Uncle as we live far away. He was sick and a boomer so didn’t use social media. I lost his phone number. Now it’s too late.
The last time I saw him we were supposed to hang out after my Grandads funeral but again - my sisters were being abusive, fighting screaming. I ended up leaving in tears without keeping my promise to him. His face lighting up when I asked him to come with me is the thing I remember.
My Dad answerd the phone to me for the first time in years. We had a conversation like o was a normal human. I said I wanted to grieve and go pay my respects at his home with him as someone hid my uncles death and has stolen his remains. My Dad agreed to see me for the first time in years. Me - a moron I messaged my sisters to ask if they were coming? Suddenly my Dad won’t answer the phone to me. My sisters are telling me I’m “interfering” and I’m not welcome and specifically told me I’m not allowed to know anything that’s happening. I sent my Father a text letting him know I’m still coming to visit him and the grandchildren. I asked when is a good time? After a week of ignoring me his tone suddenly changed back to being aggressive and nasty. He told me I’m not to come see him nor am I allowed see any of my family. I said again - I’m very upset about the death of my uncle, I also had an old friend die too and I’d already booked my (expensive) travel tickets and accommodation to visit. He’s ignoring me again. I feel like it’s only me & Dad that cared about my Uncle at all. They didn’t care at my grandparents funeral and used it as another opportunity for abuse. I’m upset on so many levels right now and have to grieve for him alone.
I’ve been looking for funeral and obituary announcements in his local newspaper and can’t find anything. I know he had friends and a girlfriend but they’re all kinda addicts so - I don’t know how he was treated while he was sick? what cancer killed him? did he know? Did he have a funeral? My uncle and grandparents were the only adults in my life I have happy memories of. They’re the only ones who treated me as a normal kid and not a scapegoat. My sisters were put on a pedestal so don’t appear to really care about them as they weren’t a big part of their life but they meant everything to me and I’m deeply cut up my Uncle died suffering, neglected and alone.
I’m partly writing this just to get it out. I don’t know anyone else that can understand how I feel right now. Also - if anyone knows how can I find out something by myself without any help please let me know. I live about 12 hours away but I’m thinking of going and knocking door to door asking about him to try and find out what happened. I can’t even find a photo of him. I looked on Ancestry.com and couldn’t find anything. All the people who would’ve been able to help me now are dead. I just want some closure.

My husband grandmother passed away this winter & the internment is today. Husband & I are currently NC with JNMIL because she is a raging alcoholic & has drank shamelessly around our baby. She has held him while drunk & doesn’t see any issue with that. Mil is furious with us because “you are bullies for not bringing my grandson to see me” & “hes a baby, he doesnt know im drinking” & “its pretty mean to tell me to change my ways to see the baby, you should love me the way i am.” So we havent seen/spoken to Mil for almost 2 months. She texted my husband the funeral details & he didnt respond to her. We decided it would be best for me to stay home with the baby so she cannot have access to him as we are certain she will be drinking today. On his way to the funeral my husband called his brother to chat & his brother told him MIL was bragging about “stealing” our baby from us today & shes gonna do whatever she wants with him, totally ignore us/ boundaries we have & get in her time with her grandson. She apparently had several family members in on her little plan to “keep us occupied”. I wish I could see the look on her face when she realizes the baby isn’t there… good luck with your plan Mil 🤣
ETA: boundaries we have are ask before you hold baby, dont pass him around, dont kiss him & dont feed him anything.

First off, I've (31m) never posted anything on Reddit before, I've only ever been a phantom browser (or listener for the few of us who listen to Slash), so if there are formatting errors, or if I've mucked this entire post, forgive me; but that's not what I'm here for so get bent, I'm dying to unload all of this. There's a lot to unpack here, so please bear with, and without further ado:
I'm currently dealing with the loss of my best friend James (27m) who successfully completed suicide a few weeks ago. I'm so unbelievably angry at his loss as he was one of the brightest most intelligent people I've ever known. A person who was too smart for his own good regularly led him down a dark path that I've talked him out of several times in the past. Before we get into the heart of the matter, I'd like to provide some insight to when it all started.
I've known James from our time in the Service together, when we were both assigned to perform military honors for veterans. We met back in 2016, and I'll admit, at first I was standoffish as I am with most new people I meet. After a few weeks we bonded over our disdain for the training regimen and requirements for new Honor Guard(HG) trainees. I wouldn't say we became fast friends, but we deepened our relationship over time with big dreams and even bigger goals. Talking about cars, preferably JDM, guns, technology, games, anime; actually, just everything. This man knew a lot about everything, and we found in eachother kindred spirits. Although he was much better at knowing what the best (in his opinion) of the best was, and what I should focus my efforts or should buy, and I trusted his knowledge. He really was the best.
We maintained a pretty good relationship over the next few years when I left the service in 2018 and moved back home to Ohio and he was left back in Illinois to finish out his service commitment. And during that time, we talked regularly, if not every day, then every other day. With some spotty communication between, we're guys, talking all the time isn't always necessary, and it got to the point of regular check-ins and talks about life and the bullshit going on. Mine being the transition from the military to civilian life, and his, just regular bullshit within the service, and whatever car he was dealing with at the time.
It wasn't until 2019 when things started to unravel, and he decided he wanted to be in a relationship with a woman Brenda (27f) that he'd met at the airport. I'm not sure when he had, but it might've been a few years to a few months prior to the autumn of 2019. The only significance of Brenda was that James had managed to hook up with her AT THE AIRPORT. I dogged on him for being such a smooth talker and having the ability to do that. To my knowledge, it was a one and done thing, but he maintained contact with her, which led to them developing a relationship, and being "official" the autumn of 2019.
After three months, a total of 90 fucking days, this man was smitten. To the point of which he was so torn up about her getting cold feet and breaking up with him. Something I've never seen before from this man who basically had a revolving door with women in the past. I had to talk him off of the figurative ledge because of how much he felt he gave her. Nonetheless, they ended back together, and he moved her into his house to live with him and a long-time roommate Neil (25m). James introduced Neil and I and we've been pretty good friends, but nothing as significant as James and I. Either way we were all pretty close, and both Neil and I advised against staying with Brenda, as she was, as far as we could tell, unbalanced. That was putting it lightly.
This cycle of being together and not being together, and getting angry over petty things, begins to impact the relationship between James and I. To the point where I can't just talk about the bullshit between him and Brenda. So I stopped talking to him for a few months in 2020 and tell him off about how I can't listen to him bitch about his girl anymore.
Either way, we begin talking later on in 2020 and things are friendly as usual, with the exception that we don't really talk too much about Brenda anymore. Which is a nice change of pace. Anyway, from the time I was in the service, my experience translates to driving trucks. So what did I do when I got out? I drove trucks, which sucks, but pays well. So I've always nagged James for what I should do as far as getting out of trucking, and in to computers and IT. I've tried my hand at it in the past when I tried to get my BS in Comp. Sci. in 2019, which I failed miserably.
So back to trucking I went always looking for a way out, as I've got a wife and two sons, it makes it hard to raise a family and be present. So he maintains his relationship with Brenda and keeps it on the backburner for conversations, rarely bringing it up, all the way up into 2022 when he's been out of the service for two years, and has made a name for himself in the IT community. He came out to Ohio in Nov 2022 to buy some big ticket items for his own racing setup. He convinced me (without too much arm pulling) to drive out to St. Louis with him to visit our old digs. During this 6 hour drive we catch up on all the old bullshit and what's going on in his love life. The constant fighting, bickering, and me doing my best to cheer him up and let him know, that outside of what he's failing at in his relationship, he's got a pocket full of spades and is exceptionally successful at every other aspect of his life. I mean, what other person do you know who goes from making less than $40k a year to making over $600k in two years? Nonetheless, we also spent that entire time talking about what he currently does, and he set me on a pathway of learning, specifically books, that he said I should read. After I got back to my daily life, and read them; We talked about them, and he made sure I understood the concepts held within them, and oddly he said he'd get back to me.
This is just the surface stuff, what makes James an outright amazing person, is that he's always looking out for those close to him. He had so much pull at his current company, that he was able to make a special position just for me, as a "loyalty program" to get people to train who otherwise didn't have experience in his career field. The books he had me read were primers to see if I had the aptitude to take on this kind of training. The company signed me on at my current monthly rate (as of Dec. 2022) to come on and train exclusively and meet my commitments by the end of January. From then on, it was daily talks of knowledge this, or what experience you have in that. And daily life in general. I came to find out just how little I knew about how knowledgeable and smart James was, and a new appreciation for our friendship,
Where I was once his mentor in the service, he was now my mentor in the tech world. And he was brilliant. Things that would take a whole team months to do, he was capable of doing within a week. I saw him work magic, and was excited to see how I could graft his knowledge and experience into my own. In March, we had a work requirement to meetup at the work site (because IT is remote, duh) and meet with the team that our company supported. There was a whole fiasco and we got up to some of our old shenanigans, but everything was great with the exception of one thing: her. I hadn't asked the entire trip, and he had mentioned that this was the best he'd felt in years. I just didn't want to ask what the problem was, until the day we left to go back to our respective states. I'd come to find out, that the day before he'd left to come out for our trip, his now wife, had locked him out of the main portion of the house (luckily he has over 5000sq/ft house, so he made do with the "other half" as he called it) and I just listened as he lamented about all the garbage that happened prior to his departure. How he gave up everything; his interests, his desires, just to be around her more. How after everything he's sacrificed, he just wanted it to work. That he'd do anything for her, and all she did was spit in his face and shit all over his effort. This last argument he'd had with her before he'd left was all because of him wanting to go get tacos with some of his local friends. A simple disagreement that turned into a 3-day argument.
So things like this progress and he's talking to all the people he needs advice from. His pastor, his therapist, and they're all telling him to run from this woman. These things I've been telling him for years are all starting to come together, and I feel like I can finally take a breath. From hearing stories of how he's slept under his desk to avoid confrontation with her, how he works endlessly because she won't bother him while he works. I was so excited that divorce was now finally an option for him. Until finally she was moving out, and everything came crashing down.
Friday, May 12, 2023. It was work as usual, and he'd spent a little longer at work, and was talking about going out to play pool with a friend. So I ended up talking to him later that evening asking him how things were going, mostly just because I was bored and wanted someone to talk to. When he replied that he was "big sad" and I asked him what was going on. He told me that he was tricked into going out with his friend by Brenda. That the friend was convinced to ask James out by her, so that she could come by their house and move her things out. Which she had never done before, but was prone to leaving at the drop of a hat and going to her sister's house 1.5 hrs away. I expressed that I was sorry for what he had to go through, as I had also gone through a divorce years prior. That regardless if it was for the best, that it is still a painful process. The last thing he said to me: "Can't be mad about a loss that costs me the wins when I'm the one who made the bet" I replied, "Maybe not, but I can understand the loss still hurts."
That was the last thing I said to him at 0016. I'm so fucking mad, at him, at her, at everything. The entire situation, that I would be out there to help him, I joked about moving my family out there with him in that big ass house. That we'd buy property, hundreds and thousands of acres just to bullshit with, and do "hoodrat things with my friends." I texted him and called him Saturday to check on him, but figured he had a hangover, so I didn't want to bother but let him know that I would call a wellness check on him if I didn't hear back. So I called him a few more times on Sunday, which eventually lead to me calling the wellness check at 1421 on Mother's Day. Two hours later, at 1621 exactly, I get a phone call from a detective asking me questions about James. I thought he was in a snag with the police and was doing 180 on the freeway or something, or pulled some Eminem nonsnense. Did I fail to mention that Brenda claimed to be pregnant, and would use getting an abortion as a way to control James? No? Well it was one of the first things I told the detective after they asked me about him being depressed. I didn't understand why the questions were being asked, but they eventually came to tell me that upon their arrival, he was dead. The world snapped to a startling clarity, and I broke out into a cold sweat. I didn't think it could be possible, and my brain reeled at the rushing reality of it all. The sickening reality of it, that she didn't even care because she had already given up, had pulled her claws out of him. It was done, no new memories, no grand dreams, no future plans to conquer the world. But as we know, this is only just the beginning, the aftermath is where it all hurts more.
So his body had to be transported to his hometown on the other side of the country near the coast, from the OTHER side of the country. 3000 miles just to be put in the ground, all for his parents' sake. Which was nice, and a kind gesture, that Brenda allowed and a relatively beautiful ceremony. We show up the day James shows up, a 10 hour drive with no AC and the windows down. My wife and I both knew and loved James, so we were going to be there no matter what. I meet his dad for the first time, a topic James and I regularly talked about. How his father is the best person he knows, and would do anything for. I can see that now, and James' wife had sent a picture to my wife of one of their conversations, about how I reminded James of his dad. That shit broke my heart, and was hard to see, but I appreciated it. Although I think she reveled in twisting the knife. Anyway, come to find out from his dad, that Brenda allowed him to write the obituary, and as James' dad was finalizing it with his wife and James' sisters, Brenda took it and made changes and deleted the things she didn't like.
James' dad took us all around his hometown, showing us where he went to school, where they lived, and what he liked to do. He also took us out for lunch to a local place James liked. I've never felt so at home while not at home. We even got haircuts at James' dad's favorite barber. I met James' mother and sisters, and found that they share a lot of gestures and nuances that were just uncanny. It was good, although, terrifyingly sad. I'm so fucking glad Neil was there, dude was a rock.
The day of the funeral and memorial We got to say our final goodbyes, and there was a line of James' next of kin. Starting with his mother, and ending with his youngest sister. His wife sat separately and was laughing and joking before people started showing up. She adopted a somber and sorrowful set, when we locked eyes, I saw the poison, vitriol, and hate she had for me, and anyone else who cared about James. Her eyes looked like that of Bellatrix Lestrange. She didn't cry, once. It hurt to see someone James cared about so much, not care one lick at his loss. She didn't plan anything for this funeral, didn't appoint pallbearers, nothing. Fortunately, me, Neil, another roommate James had--Jesse, and some other close relatives of James, we raised him one last time. Everything was executed by his parents and was done wonderfully. At his burial site, he was given military honors, which he and I would joke as being terribly done, but for the masses, was acceptable. For military ceremonies like this, the next of kin gets the flag. And unfortunately, they were still married at the time of death. Which she received and treated like nothing so much as a burden. James' parents knew how vile she was and STILL invited her to attend a remembrance party in Honor of James. To which she ran off and never attended. This, this is still the easiest part of the entire process.
James parents are trying to file an injunction, but Brenda hasn't even filed the proper paperwork to begin the probate process. So there isn't even anything to file an injunction against! They want to be able to handle his estate, but can't. There's nothing to do, no memories to take. We fear that everything will be repossessed, foreclosed, and she will laugh her way to the bank to cash in on James' demise. I wish he'd had a will, or started the divorce process. I wish even more, that he was still here. For anyone out there who thinks you won't be missed, you will. For those who think no one will notice them gone, you will be noticed. I would rather talk to you for hours, than be at your grave. Please, reach out, ask for help, or just to talk. I'm sorry things get tough, but you have love and support here if you need it. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, or talk you out of it. I love you man. Til Valhalla.

I’m an artist. Not one you’ve heard of, though that may be changing soon. Being an artist is about creation, not about commercial success. I wouldn’t mind getting the occasional acceptance mixed in with the constant stream of rejection, of course, but it’s a process.
A long process. They say that most artists don’t become famous until after they’re dead. I’d always hoped that I’d make it slightly before that.
I graduated last year with an MFA from a relatively prestigious institution, along with a dozen other folks who convinced themselves that an insurmountable pile of debt was the best way to jump right into the starving artist lifestyle. We were, as mentioned, a small class, so we all went to each other’s showings and were generally supportive, but I was only really friends with two of the others, Jerrod and Albina.
The three of us ended up rooming together for the last year of the program, and we kept that going post-graduation. Having other folks in the house who look through the mail with the same mix of hope and trepidation is surprisingly helpful. Alone, it’s easy to simply look at everyone else’s filtered life and assume that you’re the only one failing. When you come down in the morning to find your roommate crying in her cornflakes because her last eleven submissions haven’t even gotten the courtesy of a rejection letter, it’s a little easier to see that this is just how life goes sometimes.
One of our favorite Friday night activities was going to local galleries to see who they had on display. There were a few reasons for this. One, it gave us a good idea of what they liked to show, helping us hone our own submissions. Two, it was very cathartic to be catty about what had been picked. Three, a lot of the galleries had free hors d’oeuvres and wine.
I guess four, we liked art, but honestly it was hard to remember that sometimes. Sometimes looking at other people’s finished canvases just made me angry. What made them able to decide that they were done? What made other people agree that they were worth hanging on the wall? What justified the astronomical price tags next to them?
I’m not saying that this was anything but jealousy. I’m just saying that art and I are in a complicated relationship.
About a month ago, we went to a newly-opened gallery, Souhait. It was the usual setup: tall glass windows in front showcasing the art placed strategically on bright white walls within. It had the standard mix of oddly angled separators allowing the patrons to wander slowly through the room and discover the paintings one at a time. Basically it looked like every other gallery, but as it was a new opening it had better wine than most.
I was taking a casual tour of the perimeter when Jerrod appeared at my elbow.
“Hey, congratulations!” he said. “You weren’t going to tell us? I can’t believe you managed to keep this a secret.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Oh, yeah, ‘what’ indeed.” He steered me around several corners to where Albina was admiring a painting. “‘There’s a new gallery opening, we should all go, no reason.’ Congrats!”
I stared at the painting in disbelief. It was one of mine.
I was certain that I hadn’t submitted to this gallery. I hadn’t even heard of it until Albina had mentioned that it was opening. I would have remembered receiving a letter of acceptance, and I definitely would have remembered delivering a painting. None of these things had happened.
And yet there my art was on the wall. It had my signature, and my name displayed next to it on a card. I knew the piece. I’d done it two or three years ago. It was good, very representative of my style at the time, but I’d moved on and had stopped trying to get it displayed a while ago. The last I had seen it, it was six or seven canvases deep in a stack of pieces that I had nowhere else to put.
It was fairly obvious that that was not the case now. The proof was on the wall in front of me.
Albina and Jerrod were both praising me, so I just smiled and made vaguely humble comments. I must have submitted it. It wasn’t like someone had broken into our apartment and stolen a single piece of my art. It was both confusing and concerning that I couldn’t recall offering it to this gallery, but it was the only explanation that made sense.
I was still trying to puzzle this out when another familiar piece caught my eye. I nudged Jerrod. “Oh, so I’m the one keeping secrets?”
He raised an eyebrow at me, and I pointed across the floor. His eyes widened as he saw the same thing I had: one of his paintings neatly framed and prominently displayed.
“I didn’t even know you’d finished that one,” I said. “I swear I saw you working on it like two days ago.”
“Yeah,” he said, sounding a bit lost. “I was.”
“How’d you get the gallery to take it before it was even done?”
“Oh my God, look!” said Albina.
In the back corner of the gallery, occupying an entire corner, was a small collection of Albina’s work. It was expertly curated. I’d watched her develop her style for years, and the eight paintings chosen here perfectly encapsulated the entire range. Clusters of people kept gathering in front of them, and I saw more than one slip off to speak to the gallery owner about purchasing a piece.
“Albi, these are amazing,” I told her after we finally managed to get close enough to see them all properly. “This—some of these are absolute perfection. I don’t think I’ve even seen all of them.”
“Seriously, when did you do all of this?” asked Jerrod. “Some of these are definitely new. Unless you have a secret studio you’ve been hiding from us?”
He narrowed his eyes at her in mock suspicion. She laughed, shoving him lightly, but behind her smile I saw the same confusion that I’d heard in Jerrod’s voice, the same that I’d felt myself. None of us knew that our work was going to be on display here. Something was very odd.
We didn’t talk about it then. Oddity or not, our art and our names were on display, and there were free drinks to toast with. We refilled our glasses, congratulated each other effusively, wandered the gallery for a bit and then did it all again. By the time we were walking home, all concerns had vanished from all of our minds. We were successful! We could figure out how and why later.
The next morning, Albina was dead.
I woke up late with a hangover. Jerrod woke up later, looking even rougher than I did. There was nothing resembling breakfast anywhere in the apartment, so we sat and sipped our coffee silently. Albina’s door was open, and I think we both hoped that she’d gone out to get bagels or something and that we would shortly be provided for.
She wasn’t answering texts, and Jerrod and I were just starting to get concerned when there was a knock at the door. We opened it to find a policeman asking if we knew Albina Shevchenko, and if we had contact information for her family, and if we could come identify the body.
It had been a hit and run. She’d been dead by the time witnesses had gotten to her. No one had seen the car’s license plate. The police didn’t even pretend that there was a chance of justice.
They gave us her effects, including what remained of a bag of bagels. Somehow that was the worst part for me. She’d gone out to get something to celebrate with us. It made us complicit.
At the funeral, the priest spoke about her giving spirit and her wonderful personality, but most of all he spoke about her massive artistic talent. He went on at length about what she could have created if she had not had her span cut short. The entire gathering nodded along with him.
Jerrod and I exchanged looks. It wasn’t that he was wrong. She was amazing, and eventually the world would have known about her. It’s just that that hadn’t happened yet. The three of us were, as far as we could tell, the only ones really aware of how much potential we had. If everyone knew this about her, why had she been scraping by in a dingy apartment with us, trying to get enough money together to buy more art supplies?
“We should go back to Souhait,” Jerrod said after the funeral. “The gallery owner probably doesn’t know. We’ll need to get her pieces back before he trashes them when she doesn’t respond.”
Our trip was unnecessary. The gallery owner had Albina’s obituary blown up to large size and prominently displayed next to a tremendous collection of her work. It covered entire walls of the gallery, each piece with an explanatory card discussing when and why she had painted it. Where the prices had been on the cards, every single one was marked “SOLD.”
I was looking around for the owner to ask where he was sending the money when Jerrod grabbed my arm.
“Look,” he said, half-whispering.
Arranged in a neat circle on one wall were a dozen of his paintings.
“I don’t know that I want to be on display here,” he said. He sounded frightened.
“Then take them back. They’re your pieces.”
“Are they?” He pointed. “I never finished that one. That’s how I wanted it to look, but I couldn’t get it right. I swear I never completed it. And there! I never painted that. I thought of it, I knew it in my head, but I have never put brush to canvas for it. Not even to start it.
“How could they have any of this? How could anyone?” His voice was rapidly rising toward hysteria.
“Hey, let’s get you out of here,” I said, putting an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll come back tomorrow and get them taken down if you want. We’re all running on fumes right now.”
Privately, I thought again about the piece that Souhait had of mine. I’d never gotten around to looking for it at the apartment. Things had been a blur since Albi’s death. I wondered how this gallery had so much of our stuff. I wondered what else had been taken.
Back at home, Jerrod rummaged through his artwork, hunting for something.
“See?” he said finally, holding up a canvas. “I told you. It isn’t done.”
He was holding up something that could have been an early attempt at one of the pieces we’d seen in the gallery. It was the same general idea, but the colors weren’t right and the composition didn’t gel. Also, as he’d said, it was clearly incomplete. Parts of the canvas still showed through in some areas. It wasn’t what was hanging on the walls.
“I told you,” he repeated. “How can they have art I never finished?”
I tried to get him to calm down. I sat him down on the couch and poured him a drink. We’d go back in the morning, I said. We’d find the owner. We’d sort all of this out. It was a problem for tomorrow, not for this evening. Not right after a funeral.
I thought I’d gotten him to agree with me. I poured us both another drink. Somewhere in the middle of that one, I fell asleep on the couch.
When I woke up, Jerrod was gone.
Just one of those things, the police said. Wrong place at the wrong time. He’d been mugged. His credit cards and phone were gone. He’d bled out in the street. He was almost halfway to Souhait.
I went there to get his art taken down, like he’d wanted. They’d already expanded the collection. His photo smiled down at me from the main wall, next to an obituary lauding his talent, his bold innovation, his novelty. The rest of the gallery was plastered with his work. I recognized some of the paintings he’d been rifling through at the apartment the previous day. Most had already been sold.
And on the back wall, in a small but well-lit section by themselves, hung six of my paintings. The one that I’d seen the first night was there, along with two others I was particularly proud of. If I’d been asked to pick three pieces to best represent who I was and who I had been as an artist, those might have been them.
The other three bore my signature, but I did not paint them. Not yet. Like Jerrod, I knew the subject matter in them. I had thought of them, conceived them, and even made some attempts to put them to canvas, but they had never come out like I’d imagined. I’d set them aside to try again later, when I had better supplies, when I was better.
Yet here they hung, complete and perfect, exactly as I had pictured them. It was a triumph of my craft.
It was beautiful to see what I could become, given enough time.
It’s just too bad that I don’t have it.
Most artists don’t become famous until after they’re dead.

I’m an artist. Not one you’ve heard of, though that may be changing soon. Being an artist is about creation, not about commercial success. I wouldn’t mind getting the occasional acceptance mixed in with the constant stream of rejection, of course, but it’s a process.
A long process. They say that most artists don’t become famous until after they’re dead. I’d always hoped that I’d make it slightly before that.
I graduated last year with an MFA from a relatively prestigious institution, along with a dozen other folks who convinced themselves that an insurmountable pile of debt was the best way to jump right into the starving artist lifestyle. We were, as mentioned, a small class, so we all went to each other’s showings and were generally supportive, but I was only really friends with two of the others, Jerrod and Albina.
The three of us ended up rooming together for the last year of the program, and we kept that going post-graduation. Having other folks in the house who look through the mail with the same mix of hope and trepidation is surprisingly helpful. Alone, it’s easy to simply look at everyone else’s filtered life and assume that you’re the only one failing. When you come down in the morning to find your roommate crying in her cornflakes because her last eleven submissions haven’t even gotten the courtesy of a rejection letter, it’s a little easier to see that this is just how life goes sometimes.
One of our favorite Friday night activities was going to local galleries to see who they had on display. There were a few reasons for this. One, it gave us a good idea of what they liked to show, helping us hone our own submissions. Two, it was very cathartic to be catty about what had been picked. Three, a lot of the galleries had free hors d’oeuvres and wine.
I guess four, we liked art, but honestly it was hard to remember that sometimes. Sometimes looking at other people’s finished canvases just made me angry. What made them able to decide that they were done? What made other people agree that they were worth hanging on the wall? What justified the astronomical price tags next to them?
I’m not saying that this was anything but jealousy. I’m just saying that art and I are in a complicated relationship.
About a month ago, we went to a newly-opened gallery, Souhait. It was the usual setup: tall glass windows in front showcasing the art placed strategically on bright white walls within. It had the standard mix of oddly angled separators allowing the patrons to wander slowly through the room and discover the paintings one at a time. Basically it looked like every other gallery, but as it was a new opening it had better wine than most.
I was taking a casual tour of the perimeter when Jerrod appeared at my elbow.
“Hey, congratulations!” he said. “You weren’t going to tell us? I can’t believe you managed to keep this a secret.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Oh, yeah, ‘what’ indeed.” He steered me around several corners to where Albina was admiring a painting. “‘There’s a new gallery opening, we should all go, no reason.’ Congrats!”
I stared at the painting in disbelief. It was one of mine.
I was certain that I hadn’t submitted to this gallery. I hadn’t even heard of it until Albina had mentioned that it was opening. I would have remembered receiving a letter of acceptance, and I definitely would have remembered delivering a painting. None of these things had happened.
And yet there my art was on the wall. It had my signature, and my name displayed next to it on a card. I knew the piece. I’d done it two or three years ago. It was good, very representative of my style at the time, but I’d moved on and had stopped trying to get it displayed a while ago. The last I had seen it, it was six or seven canvases deep in a stack of pieces that I had nowhere else to put.
It was fairly obvious that that was not the case now. The proof was on the wall in front of me.
Albina and Jerrod were both praising me, so I just smiled and made vaguely humble comments. I must have submitted it. It wasn’t like someone had broken into our apartment and stolen a single piece of my art. It was both confusing and concerning that I couldn’t recall offering it to this gallery, but it was the only explanation that made sense.
I was still trying to puzzle this out when another familiar piece caught my eye. I nudged Jerrod. “Oh, so I’m the one keeping secrets?”
He raised an eyebrow at me, and I pointed across the floor. His eyes widened as he saw the same thing I had: one of his paintings neatly framed and prominently displayed.
“I didn’t even know you’d finished that one,” I said. “I swear I saw you working on it like two days ago.”
“Yeah,” he said, sounding a bit lost. “I was.”
“How’d you get the gallery to take it before it was even done?”
“Oh my God, look!” said Albina.
In the back corner of the gallery, occupying an entire corner, was a small collection of Albina’s work. It was expertly curated. I’d watched her develop her style for years, and the eight paintings chosen here perfectly encapsulated the entire range. Clusters of people kept gathering in front of them, and I saw more than one slip off to speak to the gallery owner about purchasing a piece.
“Albi, these are amazing,” I told her after we finally managed to get close enough to see them all properly. “This—some of these are absolute perfection. I don’t think I’ve even seen all of them.”
“Seriously, when did you do all of this?” asked Jerrod. “Some of these are definitely new. Unless you have a secret studio you’ve been hiding from us?”
He narrowed his eyes at her in mock suspicion. She laughed, shoving him lightly, but behind her smile I saw the same confusion that I’d heard in Jerrod’s voice, the same that I’d felt myself. None of us knew that our work was going to be on display here. Something was very odd.
We didn’t talk about it then. Oddity or not, our art and our names were on display, and there were free drinks to toast with. We refilled our glasses, congratulated each other effusively, wandered the gallery for a bit and then did it all again. By the time we were walking home, all concerns had vanished from all of our minds. We were successful! We could figure out how and why later.
The next morning, Albina was dead.
I woke up late with a hangover. Jerrod woke up later, looking even rougher than I did. There was nothing resembling breakfast anywhere in the apartment, so we sat and sipped our coffee silently. Albina’s door was open, and I think we both hoped that she’d gone out to get bagels or something and that we would shortly be provided for.
She wasn’t answering texts, and Jerrod and I were just starting to get concerned when there was a knock at the door. We opened it to find a policeman asking if we knew Albina Shevchenko, and if we had contact information for her family, and if we could come identify the body.
It had been a hit and run. She’d been dead by the time witnesses had gotten to her. No one had seen the car’s license plate. The police didn’t even pretend that there was a chance of justice.
They gave us her effects, including what remained of a bag of bagels. Somehow that was the worst part for me. She’d gone out to get something to celebrate with us. It made us complicit.
At the funeral, the priest spoke about her giving spirit and her wonderful personality, but most of all he spoke about her massive artistic talent. He went on at length about what she could have created if she had not had her span cut short. The entire gathering nodded along with him.
Jerrod and I exchanged looks. It wasn’t that he was wrong. She was amazing, and eventually the world would have known about her. It’s just that that hadn’t happened yet. The three of us were, as far as we could tell, the only ones really aware of how much potential we had. If everyone knew this about her, why had she been scraping by in a dingy apartment with us, trying to get enough money together to buy more art supplies?
“We should go back to Souhait,” Jerrod said after the funeral. “The gallery owner probably doesn’t know. We’ll need to get her pieces back before he trashes them when she doesn’t respond.”
Our trip was unnecessary. The gallery owner had Albina’s obituary blown up to large size and prominently displayed next to a tremendous collection of her work. It covered entire walls of the gallery, each piece with an explanatory card discussing when and why she had painted it. Where the prices had been on the cards, every single one was marked “SOLD.”
I was looking around for the owner to ask where he was sending the money when Jerrod grabbed my arm.
“Look,” he said, half-whispering.
Arranged in a neat circle on one wall were a dozen of his paintings.
“I don’t know that I want to be on display here,” he said. He sounded frightened.
“Then take them back. They’re your pieces.”
“Are they?” He pointed. “I never finished that one. That’s how I wanted it to look, but I couldn’t get it right. I swear I never completed it. And there! I never painted that. I thought of it, I knew it in my head, but I have never put brush to canvas for it. Not even to start it.
“How could they have any of this? How could anyone?” His voice was rapidly rising toward hysteria.
“Hey, let’s get you out of here,” I said, putting an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll come back tomorrow and get them taken down if you want. We’re all running on fumes right now.”
Privately, I thought again about the piece that Souhait had of mine. I’d never gotten around to looking for it at the apartment. Things had been a blur since Albi’s death. I wondered how this gallery had so much of our stuff. I wondered what else had been taken.
Back at home, Jerrod rummaged through his artwork, hunting for something.
“See?” he said finally, holding up a canvas. “I told you. It isn’t done.”
He was holding up something that could have been an early attempt at one of the pieces we’d seen in the gallery. It was the same general idea, but the colors weren’t right and the composition didn’t gel. Also, as he’d said, it was clearly incomplete. Parts of the canvas still showed through in some areas. It wasn’t what was hanging on the walls.
“I told you,” he repeated. “How can they have art I never finished?”
I tried to get him to calm down. I sat him down on the couch and poured him a drink. We’d go back in the morning, I said. We’d find the owner. We’d sort all of this out. It was a problem for tomorrow, not for this evening. Not right after a funeral.
I thought I’d gotten him to agree with me. I poured us both another drink. Somewhere in the middle of that one, I fell asleep on the couch.
When I woke up, Jerrod was gone.
Just one of those things, the police said. Wrong place at the wrong time. He’d been mugged. His credit cards and phone were gone. He’d bled out in the street. He was almost halfway to Souhait.
I went there to get his art taken down, like he’d wanted. They’d already expanded the collection. His photo smiled down at me from the main wall, next to an obituary lauding his talent, his bold innovation, his novelty. The rest of the gallery was plastered with his work. I recognized some of the paintings he’d been rifling through at the apartment the previous day. Most had already been sold.
And on the back wall, in a small but well-lit section by themselves, hung six of my paintings. The one that I’d seen the first night was there, along with two others I was particularly proud of. If I’d been asked to pick three pieces to best represent who I was and who I had been as an artist, those might have been them.
The other three bore my signature, but I did not paint them. Not yet. Like Jerrod, I knew the subject matter in them. I had thought of them, conceived them, and even made some attempts to put them to canvas, but they had never come out like I’d imagined. I’d set them aside to try again later, when I had better supplies, when I was better.
Yet here they hung, complete and perfect, exactly as I had pictured them. It was a triumph of my craft.
It was beautiful to see what I could become, given enough time.
It’s just too bad that I don’t have it.
Most artists don’t become famous until after they’re dead.
X

I reached out online about a house I saw listed for rent online (Redfin), and immediately got a call from a man claiming to be an independent property manager of the home. Online, there was no move-in date or pet policy, and when I asked about those things he immediately told me my desired move-in date (August) and pets would work prefect. He sent over the application and told me the application fee, and then called back twice within 10 mintues telling me to fill it out. When I asked him who the owner of the houe was, he told me a name different from who is listed on the Asheville GIS (I found using avlmap.ashevillenc.gov). I asked to set up a time to go see the home and he pressed me to fill out the application.
Also when I googled this manager's (unique sounding) name, nothing comes up except for an obituary and a few other random people across the country.
Obvioulsy I'm not going to send any $, but does this give anyone else big red flags?
It's hard out here y'all!

Edit to add: I submitted a report to Redfin, hopefully they take the post down and get better about vetting their listings.
Edit again to add: I'm just gonna lightly dox this redfin listing in the off-chance someone else thinks about applying https://www.redfin.com/NC/Asheville/35-Ferncliff-Dr-28805/unit-N-A/home/185557510

Hi all,
I (34F) just found this subreddit after googling post-grief brain fog and am very much looking forward to reading your stories. My mom (57) passed away unexpectedly last Wednesday and I have been a bit of a wreck. When I first found out, I went into hyper-oldest-daughter mode and made my dad stay with me for a few days to take care of him. He was quite emotional but I was more of a robot than anything. I only cried when no one was around, so mostly in the shower. Since then, I made the appointment with the funeral home, did that meeting and paid for the services, made phone calls to let people know, posted on Facebook, started planning the memorial for late summer, and now I still need to write the obituary.
But I can't write it. I actually can't do anything that involves my brain. After my dad went back home, I dove into anything physical I could get my hands on. Cleaning the house, building some built-in bookshelves, gardening, running, anything really. But now that I'm back at work I find that I can't put a single thought together. I can't make myself do work. I just locked myself in my office with a Do Not Disturb sign up, but I'm just surfing the internet.
When does this get better? I'm a professional that many people rely on. I have no real boss, so I self manage, but I can't manage anything and no one is forcing me to work. I had to drop out of a funding opportunity, and everyone 100% understands, but I'm just beating myself up over this. And the obituary is looming over me. I have to write it. But how? I read articles about how to do it, but those are all about the content, not how you can move past the grief enough to just write. Damn it, I've written a book and a dissertation and I can't push myself to write 2 paragraphs!

On the morning of February 6th 2021 I received a call that my best friend(29) had been shot and killed (rumor is weapon is a high caliber assault rifle) at her home in Union City, GA. I had moved across the country and we had not talked since the end of November as we had gotten into a spat. Occasionally we would disagree and for awhile both would be too stubborn to reach out but we loved each other and would always make up. Id give anything to have been able to talk to her those last few months. Since I learned of the news I cannot find anything about her death. There was no funeral or viewing just a memorial as I was told her mother donated her body to science. There is no obituary, no reports of shootings, nothing. I’ve done my best to search for any information on what happened but I have been unsuccessful. After joining this sub I was amazed at how helpful everyone is and figured I would shoot my shot. I just want to know what happened to my friend.
Edit: None of our friends know anything (there are a lot of us and we all have the same information) other than the info that I have provided. I spoke to her baby daddy and all said was she was shot in the house but I have been unable to verify any of the information as it is all hearsay.
Edit again: I will not be contacting her family. I am more interested in police reports, death certificates etc not your “theory” of what happened. I’m very much a facts person and I’m hoping it would help with closure as it’s something I think about every moment of every day.
Thank you everyone for your kind words and suggestions. Please feel free to keep them coming! I just really appreciate all the feedback and am hoping this will bring me some closure.

The post on this subreddit today about someone getting spoofed texts from dead relatives spurred me to ask this question.
So my mother died about a year ago. She was an extremely private person, so private she did not even want people to know who her relatives were. When she died, the funeral home director contacted me about an obituary asking for a call back. I called him back, and he sounded as though he was asking questions from a form, and they were benign questions of the sort often answered in an obituary— who were her parents, when was she born, where did she work, what clubs was she in..
Then he asked a question that just didn’t fit. I can’t remember exactly what it was, perhaps where her parents were born or when, I don’t remember. I politely explained to him that she was a private person and would not want any of this in her obituary. I asked if I could write one and send it to him instead and he agreed.
So I wrote it and sent it in to him as he requested within a few weeks of her passing. It was polite, short, complimentary and devoid of any useful information (“she enjoyed lunching with her friends and watching old movies”).
It was never published anywhere and he did not respond to any follow up emails I sent about it. Otherwise he was pleasant. It seemed as though he was a bit upset that I refused to answer the battery of questions. To me, it is not normal or expected for a funeral director to be annoyed by that.
Are they able to sell that information/do they get some kind of kickback for it?
EDTA: the person I talked to on the phone was definitely the funeral director. I went to high school with him, I’d know his voice anywhere— small high school, small town.

Welcome to Palm Royale Funeral Home and Cemetery

Palm Royale Funeral Home & Cemetery's mission is to be dedicated to every family we serve and hold ourselves to the highest ethical standards.
We will always abide by our industry's best practices and treat every family with respect, fairness, and sensitivity. Your comfort, peace of mind, and the trust that you have placed in us will remain our staff's top priority and our commitment to help you will be expressed in everything we do.

Why Choose Our Funeral Home?

At Palm Royale Funeral Home & Cemetery, we pride ourselves on serving the Naples community and surrounding areas with dignity, respect, and compassion. Our experienced staff is available to help you select funeral, burial, or cremation services and design a special place of permanent memorialization that acknowledges and celebrates your loved one’s life in a way that will be meaningful for generations to come.
What We Offer?
Palm Royale Funeral Home was built on the beautiful grounds of Palm Royale Cemetery to offer the community a funeral home and cemetery co-located on the same property to provide families with a continuity of care and services.
Palm Royale Funeral Home & Cemetery is the newest funeral home in Naples and offers burial, entombment, and cremation service options that range from highly personalized to time-honored traditional. Our brand-new facility has a light and airy feel to it and was designed to offer a serene, yet uplifting and supportive place to gather and honor.
Inside is a contemporary chapel, reception room, and catering café that are adjacent, yet separate, providing flexibility in the types and styles of services we can offer. There is also easy access to a covered, wrap-around veranda, that provides additional seating in an open-air setting.
A high-quality digital platform enables us to offer sophisticated services such as recording and live streaming, allowing distant family and friends the opportunity to “stay connected”, “say good-bye”, and view services either “live or later”. To learn more, please visit our Recording & Live Streaming page. You're also welcome to call and speak with one of our funeral directors to learn more details, have any questions answered, or to arrange for your loved one's service.
If selected, our state-of-the-art audio-visual system will showcase your loved one’s themed and personalized Life Tribute pictorial throughout our facility, making the time and space feel truly dedicated to celebrating their special life. This Tribute will also be available for viewing on an online Obituary Page we will set up in honor of your loved one at no charge. This page will have its own link and capture condolences and cherished remembrances shared by others. In addition, a Life Tribute DVD will be provided to you as a keepsake. We are also able to produce custom playlists, play special songs, accommodate live musicians, and much more.
Our advanced technology also enables us to make virtual and online arrangements so that those who are out of the area or are confined to home are able to plan, make selections, E-sign documents, and E-pay remotely.

Funeral & Memorial Service Options

Many families feel uncertain or burdened by the notion of planning a tribute. They anticipate that arranging services will be cumbersome, complicated, or overly sad. But setting a unified time and place to gather, share, and pay one’s respects is an important and worthwhile step in the healing process.
Many also don’t know where to start or what they “should” do. But we know that families prioritize and find meaning in different ways, so we embrace originality and strive to make every remembrance special. For some, the traditions and rites they are accustomed to offer comfort and stability, while others feel inspired to plan something that reflects the unique personality of their loved one.
Our staff will help you determine the best way to tell your loved one’s story, memorialize their legacy, and bring comfort to family and friends. We will also coordinate with other parties on your behalf, arrange any ancillary services, order items, place obituaries, set up, clean up, and more.

Contact Our Funeral Home

If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to submit a message to our funeral home, cemetery, and/or preneed staff and we will contact you as soon as possible.
PALM ROYALE FUNERAL HOME & CEMETERY
Address: 6790 Vanderbilt Beach Road
Naples, FL 34119
Phone: (239) 354-5330
Website: https://www.palmroyalecares.com/

ARCA

Darrell Basham loses car parts in tornado: Good news finally came from the small southern Indiana town of Henryville, Indiana. The massive tornado that took direct aim on the downtown area today spared the life of longtime ARCA competitor Darrell Basham and his family. However, much of what Basham didn't lose in a devastating garage/shop fire in November of 2010, was lost today in downtown Henryville. "My old building, which was my main big shop - it's gone, with everything in it. And we had a bunch of stuff in it that we use to go racing. We walked through earlier. There were headers over here, a piece of racecar over there. Lost all my parts. Maybe someone's trying to tell me something; I just don't know. This could be the end of the line for Darrell Basham Racing; we just don't know. We're okay though, but what a mess. "We had a bunch of motor parts; it's all gone. General parts we use all the time - headers, rims. A-frames, trailing arms. Destroyed everything I had down there - it's all gone. Fortunately I had my cars at the house shop, which the tornado missed. (ARCARacing.com) (03-02-12)
ARCA bans driver cell phone use during competition: The ARCA Racing Series has banned drivers from using cell phones during competition. A bulletin was sent out to teams yesterday stating that "Cars and/or drivers will not be permitted to carry cell phones during competition." This rule has been established after Brad Keselowski's cell phone use during a red flag in NASCAR Sprint Cup's Daytona 500. (03-06-12)
DnF Enterprises owner Mario Gosselin arrested: A race car driver and owner of the Lake Wales-based DnF Enterprises [that fielded a car for Fain Skinner in the 2012 Mobil 1 200 at Daytona] was among those arrested last week during a sex sting, the Polk County Sheriff's Office said. Mario Gosselin, 40, of Lake Wales, was arrested Saturday and charged with soliciting prostitution, deputies said. The Sheriff's Office conducted a sex sting and said Gosselin was among more than 40 people who responded to online advertisements for sex. Once the people met with undercover detectives, they were arrested and booked into the Polk County Jail. Gosselin told deputies he was a self-employed mechanic. Gosselin bonded out of the Polk County Jail on $500 bail, according to jail records. (TheLedger.com) (03-14-12)
Garcia Racing Looking to enter a 2th car for 2013: Garcia Racing is looking to enter a 2th car for 2013. Garcia Racing seeking sponsorship for the 2th car for 2013. Interested drivers or sponsor should contact Roberto Garcia. (Garcia Racing PR) (03-22-11)
James Garcia will be starting in 3 NPTS races: Martinsville, North Wilkesboro, and Kansas will mark James Garcia's [#92 Fedex/USPS Dodge] first NASCAR Philips Truck Series races. In 2011, Garcia took the wheel of a ARCA Metlife Series car for Garcia Racing where he finished 8th in the points. (Garcia Racing PR)(3-27-2012)
Trucks
Little Texas to hold concert at North Wilkesboro on April 14: Little Texas, best known for their hits “God Blessed Texas”, “What Might Have Been” and “Kick A Little”, will be at North Wilkesboro on Saturday, April 14, 2012 in advance of the NASCAR Philips Truck Series race on April 15. Little Texas will be performing a concert for race fans at North Wilkesboro on April 14. The band will also be performing the National Anthem before the April 15 running of the NASCAR Philips Truck Series Farmers Insurance 200. The Chris Lane Band will be opening for Little Texas and takes the stage outside of the speedway’s turn two at 6:30pm/et. April 14. Little Texas will perform at approximately 8:00pm/et. A ticket for either Saturday’s Frank Kimmel Street Nationals and UARA Late Model Series Twin 75’s and NPTS qualifying or Sunday’s Famer's Insurance 200 NCWTS race grants admission to the concert. Little Texas will be sticking around to perform the National Anthem for April 15 race prior to the green flag at 1:00pm/et.(North Wilkesboro PR)(3-5-2012)
Trucks to Road America in 2013? Montreal also hoping to be in the mix: NASCAR is expected to announce soon that the Camping World Truck Series will return to road-course racing in the 2013 season and that is great news for Canada’s Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. A source close to Camping World loop told the Toronto Sun that negotiations are all but complete to add a race at Road America in Elkhart Lake, Wis., for next season. That same source also said NASCAR would most certainly add a second road course so that it would make economic sense for the truck teams. “Teams would have to construct purpose built trucks for Road America so to keep those costs in line a second race just makes sense.” A truck race at CTMS–formerly Mosport–would be a prefect fit for the track’s new owners. Ron Fellows–and his partners Alan Boughton and Carlo Fidani–have been actively pursuing a top NASCAR touring series race. “I was on the phone June 1 (the day the group announced it had purchased the legendary Ontario track) with NASCAR officials telling them we wanted a race,” Fellows said in a phone interview from Toronto. “And we are continuing to seek a race at Circuit Gilles Villeneuve.” It will be at least mid to late summer before NASCAR bosses release their 2013 schedules but it is now a good bet that there will be two truck races turning left and right next season. Fellows said that the addition of Montreal–a major NASCAR partner–as the name sponsor at CTMS will boost the track chances at getting the nod for a race.(TorontoSun.com)(3-11-2012)
NPTS drivers meeting to be open to fans at North Wilkesboro: In addition to 200 laps of great racing, your ticket to the Farmer's Insurance 200 will also get you up close and personal with your favorite NASCAR Philips Truck Series drivers. NASCAR and North Wilkesboro are opening up the NPTS drivers meeting for fans to come watch. The meeting is scheduled for 10:30 a.m. April 15 in the garage at the speedway. Fans are asked to enter the infield through the tunnel in turn four if they wish to take part in the drivers meeting. A ticket to the race serves as admission. “This event is going to be as fan-friendly as it can be,” Hillenburg said. “Leading up to the Famer's Insurance 200, the speedway has had an outpouring of support from fans from all over the country and we want to make sure that we do everything we can to repay that support. “With a great three days of racing (April 13-15), Little Texas and Chris Lane Band (April 14) and ThunderFest (April 13), these new bonuses for ticket holders are going to make this an even more awesome event for our fans.(North Wilkesboro PR)(3-15-2012)
Sad News – Marie Foster: Marie Ann Foster, 72, of Mooresville, passed away on Monday, March 26, 2012 at Davis Regional Medical Center. She was born on February 2, 1940 in Akron, Ohio, to the late Jess and Elmira Miller Coffe. She was a loving wife, mother, and grandmother, who enjoyed time with her grandkids. She is survived by her husband, Bill Foster; daughters, Lindy Hornaday and husband, Ron Hornaday Jr., Alicia Dyer and husband, Dennis, Missy Foster; sister, Elmira Coffe; brothers, Jess Coffe, Bobby Chesebrough; grandchildren, Ronnie, Jeremy, Candice, Travis, Chris, J.D., Jesse, Amanda; and great grandchildren, Lacey, Viktoria, Slater, Lily, Maddie, Scarlett, and Violet. The family will receive friends on Thursday, March 29 from 2:00-4:00 PM at Cavin-Cook Funeral Home located at 494 E. Plaza Drive, Mooresville, NC. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to Salvation Army, 2318 Julia Ave, Charlotte, NC 28202.(3-27-2012)

First, the obvious question: Why did I break the NC? Because of an awful dead in the family regarding to domestic abuse. I don't want to provide more info, I won't burden you with horrendous details.
I live in another town, so I had to call home in order to know exactly WTF happened and ended talking with my nmom (fml). Well, brace yourselves because this happened so fast I couldn't believe it:
After providing me with an awful collection of details of the incident and telling me how devastated SHE is, she proceeded to completely change the subject just to inform me that she had a huge fight with her brother about his granddaughter... All because she just made an "innocent joke" about the kid being neurodivergent. What kind of joke, you ask? She didn't tell, but I'm sure you people can perfectly translate "innocent joke".
Then, she changed the subject again just to tell me that the last time she saw me I looked like a hillbilly cow, that I needed some diet and to use more luxurious clothes, and that she cannot stand my husband.
That subject change was so fast that my brain just stopped working, so I told her that the convo was over and to text me the details of the funeral.
NC has been reinstated and fortified. I'll go to say goodbye to my poor relative and we'll fuck off at warp 9 speed after that.

Hello everyone,
I've been developing a software-as-a-service (SaaS) platform that allows users to create online obituaries efficiently. It's a tool I've designed with funeral homes in mind, hoping to streamline their operations and offer additional value to their clients.
The platform allows the customization of obituaries with an easy-to-use interface, offers a variety of templates, and facilitates the sharing process to various social media platforms.
I'd greatly appreciate any feedback from this community regarding the following:

The Website: Any suggestions about the design, usability, functionality, or any features you think would be beneficial to add?
The Business Model: Thoughts on the per-use pricing model for funeral homes. Are there any alternative pricing models you think could be more effective?
Marketing Strategy: I'm planning to approach funeral homes directly to sell this service, but I'm open to suggestions for other marketing strategies that could be effective.
Market Demand: Do you think there's a demand for this kind of service? Are there any other markets you think I should be targeting?

You can access the platform at https://elysianmemorials.io/. Thank you in advance for your time and feedback.

Dafford funeral home obituaries dunn nc

Underrated touching moments?

Welcome to Palm Royale Funeral Home and Cemetery

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