Everyone was set to come to my house for Christmas dinner this year, but days before, my brother and his wife suddenly showed up, asking to stay over.
Although their visit was unexpected, I didn’t mind much, until my sister-in-law pushed me to the edge with her unbelievable antics!
A week before Christmas, my brother Ryan and his wife, Lindsey, arrived at our front door, bundled up and looking frazzled.
Their heating system had broken, and with the cold snap, their house had become unlivable.
Despite my reservations, my husband, Nathan, and I welcomed them in, unaware of the disaster awaiting our kindness.
“Thanks for letting us crash here,” Ryan said, setting their bags down in the hallway. “We might be here over the holidays because, for the life of us, we can’t find an electrician during this time to assist us, but we’ll keep trying.”
“It’s no problem,” Nathan replied, ever the gracious host. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
At first, things were fine.
But by the third day, my sister-in-law’s (SIL) behavior was starting to wear on me.
She monopolized our master bathroom, leaving damp towels and toiletries scattered everywhere, despite having full access to the guest bedroom shower. Worse, I noticed some of my sweaters and other clothes had mysteriously migrated into her suitcase, without her bothering to ask to borrow them!
I didn’t want to cause a scene, but I couldn’t help feeling irritated. Still, none of that compared to what I discovered on Christmas Eve morning!
We were gathered for breakfast when I noticed something odd.
The mantel in the living room, which had been lovingly decorated with garlands and stockings, looked… empty. My heart skipped a beat.
“Has anyone seen Mom?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. I was referring to the black marble vase holding my mother’s ashes, which we had placed there to honor her wish to “spend” Christmas with us.
This was supposed to be our first Christmas without Mom, who died after a short battle with cancer.
On her deathbed, she’d made my brother and me promise to keep her ashes with us in the same room where we celebrated Christmas so she could “be with us one more time.”
After this holiday, my brother and I were supposed to scatter her ashes at her favorite place—the local river where she and our late dad had gone on their first date. But now she was just… gone.
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