After a grueling week-long business trip to Denver, all I could think about was getting back home. The work there had been intense, but I’d managed to sort everything out successfully and was even able to finish up earlier than expected. I was excited to surprise my husband, Jake, and make up for missing his birthday celebration, which I’d had to sacrifice due to this sudden work trip.
As I turned into our driveway, though, I was met with a sight that stopped me dead in my tracks. The street was filled with cars parked bumper to bumper on both sides, and people were steadily making their way towards our house. My heart skipped a beat as my first thought was that something bad must have happened to Jake. Panic set in, and I rushed towards the backyard, praying that I’d find him okay.
But what I saw in the backyard was beyond anything I could have imagined. There, right in the middle of our usually peaceful lawn, was a full-fledged funeral setup. Rows of chairs were neatly arranged, beautiful flower arrangements were placed strategically around, and at the front, there was a large portrait of me. And there was Jake, standing there dressed in black, greeting the guests as if this were an actual funeral.