At My Husband’s Funeral, I Opened His Casket to Place a Flower and Found a Crumpled Note Tucked Under His Hands
I was 55 years old, newly widowed after 36 years of marriage, when something I found at my husband’s funeral made me question whether I’d ever really known the man I loved. His name was Greg—Raymond Gregory on paperwork, but just Greg to me. We were married for 36 years. No drama. No fairytale….
