I thought my husband would be there for me when my mom passed away, but instead, he chose a vacation to Hawaii over my grief. Devastated, I faced the funeral alone. But when he returned, he walked into a situation he never expected—a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. I was at work when the doctor’s number flashed on my phone, and somehow, I knew what was coming. My heart sank even before I answered. Mom was gone. Just like that. One minute she was fighting a minor lung infection, and the next… nothing. My world stopped making sense.
I don’t remember much after that. One moment I was sitting in my cubicle, and the next I was home, fumbling with my keys, eyes blurred with tears. John’s car was in the driveway, another one of his “work-from-home” days, which usually meant ESPN muted in the background while he pretended to answer emails.“John?” My voice echoed through the house. “I need you.” He stepped into the kitchen, holding a coffee mug, looking mildly annoyed. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” I tried to speak, but the words got tangled in my throat. I reached out to him, desperate for comfort. He sighed and gave me a quick, awkward pat on the back, like he was consoling a distant acquaintance. “My mom… she died, John. Mom’s gone.” His grip tightened for a moment. “Oh, wow. That’s… I’m sorry.” Then, just as quickly, he pulled away. “Do you want me to order takeout?
Maybe Thai?” I nodded, numb. The next day, reality hit hard. There was so much to handle—planning the funeral, notifying family, and dealing with a lifetime of memories. As I sat at the kitchen table, buried in lists, I remembered our planned vacation. “John, we’ll need to cancel Hawaii,” I said, looking up from my phone. “The funeral will probably be next week, and—” “Cancel?”
He lowered his newspaper, frowning. “Edith, those tickets were non-refundable. We’d lose a lot of money. Besides, I’ve already booked my golf games.” I stared at him, stunned. “John, my mother just died.” He folded the newspaper with the kind of precision that told me he was more irritated than concerned. “I get that you’re upset, but funerals are for family. I’m just your husband—your cousins won’t even notice I’m not there. You can handle things here, and you know I’m not great with emotional stuff.” It felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “Just my husband?” “You know what I mean,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze and adjusting his tie. “Besides, someone should use those tickets. You can text me if you need anything.” I felt like I was seeing him clearly for the first time in 15 years of marriage. The week that followed was a blur. John occasionally offered a stiff pat on the shoulder or suggested I watch a comedy to lift my mood. But when the day of the funeral came, he was on a plane to Hawaii, posting Instagram stories of sunsets and cocktails. “#LivingMyBestLife,” one caption read. Meanwhile, I buried my mother alone on a rainy Thursday. That night, sitting in an empty house, surrounded by untouched sympathy casseroles, something snapped inside me. I had spent years making excuses for John’s emotional absence. “He’s just not a feelings person,” I would say. “He shows his love in other ways.” But I was done pretending.I called my friend Sarah, a realtor. “Can you list the house for me? Oh, and include John’s Porsche in the deal.” “His Porsche? Eddie, he’ll lose it!” “That’s the point.” The next morning, “potential buyers” started showing up. I sat in the kitchen, sipping coffee, watching as they circled John’s beloved car. When his Uber finally pulled into the driveway, I couldn’t help but smile. It was showtime. John stormed in, face flushed. “Edith, what the hell? People are asking about my car!” “Oh, that. I’m selling the house. The Porsche is a great bonus, don’t you think?”He sputtered, pulling out his phone. “This is insane! I’ll call Sarah right now!” “Go ahead,” I said sweetly. “Maybe you can tell her about your fabulous vacation. How was the beach?” Realization slowly dawned across his face. “This… is this some kind of payback? Did I do something wrong?” I stood, letting my anger finally surface. “You abandoned me when I needed you most. I’m just doing what you do: looking out for myself. After all, I’m just your wife, right?” John spent the next hour frantically trying to shoo away buyers, while begging me to reconsider. By the time Sarah texted that her friends had run out of patience, I let him off the hook—sort of. “Fine. I won’t sell the house or the car.” I paused. “This time.” He sagged with relief. “Thank you, Edith. I—” I held up my hand. “But things are going to change. I needed my husband, and you weren’t there. You’re going to start acting like a partner, or next time, the For Sale sign will be real.” He looked ashamed, finally understanding the gravity of his actions. “What can I do to make this right?” “You can start by showing up. Be a partner, not a roommate. I lost my mother, John. That kind of grief isn’t something you can fix with a vacation or a fancy dinner.” He nodded. “I don’t know how to be the man you need, but I love you, and I want to try.” It’s not perfect now. John still struggles with emotions, but he’s going to therapy, and last week, for the first time, he asked me how I was feeling about Mom. He listened while I talked about how much I missed her calls and how I sometimes still reach for the phone, only to remember she’s not there. He even opened up a little about his own feelings. It’s progress. Baby steps. I often wonder what Mom would say about all this. I can almost hear her chuckling, shaking her head. “That’s my girl,” she’d say. “Never let them see you sweat. Just show them the ‘For Sale’ sign instead.” Because if there’s one thing she taught me, it’s that strength comes in many forms. Sometimes it’s pushing through the pain, and sometimes it’s knowing when to push back.
Donna Mills became a mom at 54 & found new love at 60 – At 82 she’s still an iconic blonde & looks radiant
Actress Donna Mills is one of those women who are gifted with exceptional beauty. No matter how many years pass by, they still look as gorgeous as ever.
Her looks, along with her talent, helped Mills become a household name. From the moment she landed a role on the CBS daytime soap opera The Secret Storm in 1966, it was obvious she was meant for great things. As all eyes were on her, her career skyrocketed with the iconic role of scheming, manipulative vixen Abby Cunningham on the long-running primetime soap opera Knots Landing and a major recurring guest-starring role in the popular soap opera General Hospital.
At the same time as her career blossomed, Mills was also trying to find love. Eventually, she started a relationship with guitarist Richard Holland, the ex-husband of singer Chaka Khan with whom he had a son, Damian. Many believed that Mills and Holland made a somewhat odd couple as their personalities were very different. She perceived herself as an active and motivated go-getter, while Holland rarely found motivation to do things. Those close to him always described him as laid back.
The public even believed that he was with her for her money and the comfort she provided for him. Shortly after they started a relationship, Holland settled with Mills in her $1.5 million mansion where she prepared a room for his son who visited them and sometimes stayed with them over the weekends.
The two stayed together and she always considered their relationship “turbulent.” During the 20 years they were going on and off, they never started a family or had a child on their own.
Mills was way too busy building her career and never felt like something was missing in her life, until she reached 54 and decided she wanted to become a mother. Many criticized her decision, saying it was late for her to embark on such a journey as parenthood, but Mills was determined to have a child. In 1994, at the height of her acting career, Mills adopted daughter Chloe, who was just four days old.
The role of a mother was so fitting to Mills that she made a shocking decision to put her career on hold and focus on raising her baby girl.
Even today, 28 years after Chloe entered her life, their mother-daughter bond is as strong as ever.
Chloe is a celebrity in her own right. She is an influencer and a model, as well as a member of the popular California-based arts, politics and media club Soho House. She’s dating musician Bailey Joshua.
Just like her daughter, Mills found love herself. Although her relationship with Holland was an unstable one, the Knots Landing star never lost hope of falling in love again. For the last 20 years, she’s been together with another Hollywood star, actor and producer Larry Gilman, whom she describes as her soul mate.
He is best known for his roles in the television series Texas Rangers between 1980 to 1981, the feature film Secrets, and the popular CBS war comedy-drama television series, M*A*S*H.
In 2015, he surprised her with a vineyard.
Recently, Mills posed alongside two other stars of her kind, Linda Gray and Joan Collins. The three 80s lead women appeared radiant and glowing, leaving their fans in awe.
It’s safe to say that the three actresses defy age.
The trio had come together for a magazine shoot, as was evident from Mills’ caption, which read:
“What a delight working with these lovely ladies. Thank you Hello Magazine @hellomag for a terrific story in your latest issue.”
Mills was dressed in a sparkling pink outfit, while Collins stunned in a gorgeous black dress and Gray opted for a shimmery gray and silver attire.
As expected, the post attracted the attention of many who dubbed the three ladies “icons,” “soap queens,” and “legends.”
“Dallas, Dynasty & Knots Landing in one frame. These Iconic ladies made those shows!” a fan wrote.
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