CONTENT WARNING: Death

I’m visiting my family for the holidays, and on Christmas Day, I have this horrible chest pain that’s making it hard to breathe. I go to lie down and rest, but hours later, it’s feeling worse. No urgent cares are open on Christmas, so we decide to go to the Emergency Room.

The intake nurse is taking my vitals and asking for general information.

Nurse: “What’s your date of birth?”

Me: “[Birthdate].”

Nurse: “Any children?”

Me: “No.”

Nurse: “But you’re thirty-five.”

Me: “Yeah.”

Nurse: “My friend is thirty-two and doing In Vitro. You should really look into it.”

Hours later, I’m waiting on a cot in the hallway, and the finance person comes for my insurance information. After several questions about my policy number, etc., she asks me:

Finance: “Who is your emergency contact?”

Me: “My husband.”

I give his name. His surname is different from mine as I didn’t change mine when we married. The finance person puts down her clipboard and sighs.

Finance: “So, his name is [Husband]. Are y’all actually even married?”

Another hour later, I’m still on the cot, and I hear a commotion. A man is wheeled in who has died of a heart attack. His family comes in after him, reacting in confusion and horror as they realize what has happened.

A doctor passing by says to a nurse:

Doctor: “Geez, they’re loud. What’s all this fuss about?”

I am never going back to that hospital again.

I’m working at a coffee shop in a mall. It’s December 23, and I’ll be taking Christmas Eve off to be with my family in my hometown, a couple of hours away; I’m expecting to be back to work on Boxing Day.

As I’m getting my stuff together once my shift is over, I check my voicemail on my phone. My mother has left me a message telling me to call her right away; I do, and she tells me my grandfather has passed away.

Merry f****** Christmas, right? 

I quietly leave the break room, pull my manager over, and, struggling to keep it together, explain that I will not be able to return to work for four extra days.

Do I get an “of course, take all the time you need”? How about an “I’m so sorry”? At the outside, “Yeah, okay.”?

Nope. I get an eye roll and a:

Manager: “You know, this is really not a great time for you to be asking for favours like this. I suppose you can’t come in tomorrow instead to make up for the time you’ll be away?”

I pick my jaw up off the floor and say:

Me: “No. I need to be with my family. Because, you know, my grandfather just died?”

Manager: “Hmm. Are you sure you’re going to need so much time?”

I feel I behave extremely well in not dissolving into incoherent tears or screaming in her face as I explain that the logistics of travelling from coastal British Columbia to a small town in Saskatchewan for a funeral in late December (which I believe is the scientific opposite of fun) rather preclude the possibility that I can be back more than a couple days before New Year’s, when we’ll be in the post-Christmas lull anyway. 

After many sighs and another reminder that the loss of my last living grandparent is terribly inconvenient for my manager, I’m finally able to leave. 

There’s a shop across the hall whose employees often get coffee at my workplace. One of those employees sees me leaving in tears, runs out, and asks me what’s wrong.

Yup. Someone who’s also run off her a** during the Christmas rush takes time to notice a person she barely knows looking sad and comes over to comfort her. So, the idea that my boss was too harried and stressed to even say “I’m sorry for your loss” cuts very little ice with me.

CONTENT WARNING: Pet Death (Prior to story)

This is the story of one of the most awkward Christmases I’ve ever been a part of.

[Boyfriend] and I always go to [Aunt] and [Uncle]’s house for Christmas with the rest of [Boyfriend]’s family. It’s usually a pretty good time; there’s a grand meal, conversations, fun stories, and lots of gifts.

The Christmas of this story was… not so great.

[Aunt] had three dogs, and one of them was very old and ill for a while and had sadly passed away several months before that Christmas.

Something I should mention is that [Aunt] is very dramatic. It’s not that someone shouldn’t be sad about losing a pet, but [Aunt] takes tragedy to another level. She is definitely a wallower. She cried and moped to every member of the family every day for months about losing her dog, bringing it up at every opportunity, and frankly, ruining a lot of special get-togethers by bringing it up. We all tried our best to comfort her even though we were growing weary of it.

Now, [Uncle] is the complete opposite of [Aunt]. He’s boisterous, giddy, and always the life of any group situation, cracking jokes, telling stories, and being positive.

Apparently, during this time, [Aunt] had told [Uncle] in her grief that she wanted to go dig up her departed dog just to cuddle him one more time. A little morbid, yes… but we all say and do strange things when we’re grieving. [Uncle] took this as an opportunity to get [Aunt] a thoughtful gift for Christmas. He had seen something online about this company that makes stuffed replicas of people’s deceased pets (not like a plush thing — slightly more lifelike), and apparently, they were quite expensive. 

Just before the gift-giving on this particular Christmas, [Uncle] quietly told a few of us what he had gotten for [Aunt]. Our private reactions amongst ourselves were a collective “Uh-oh…”

While the thought was very sweet and meaningful and [Uncle]’s heart was in the right place… we all knew [Aunt] well enough to know this wouldn’t go down well.

Sadly, we were right.

[Aunt] happily tore into the gift from her husband, with all of us holding our breath and watching. When she pulled the stuffed replica of her deceased dog from the box… she immediately burst into tears and fled from the room.

You could have cut the silence in the living room with a knife. [Uncle] looked very embarrassed, disappointed, and hurt. We all knew he was just trying to do something sweet that he thought his wife would cherish. I’m not sure how all of us anticipated his gift backfiring like it did, and he somehow didn’t see it coming.

We offered [Uncle] words of encouragement and tried to reassure him that we knew he meant well and that [Aunt] would come around and see how thoughtful his gift was once she got over the initial shock.

To add insult to injury, when the time came for [Uncle] to open his gift from [Aunt] (she was still bawling her eyes out in the back bedroom), he sullenly tore the paper off the box to see what his wife had given him for Christmas.

Her gift to him was a single shaker of steak seasoning.

None of us can figure out why they’re still together since the rest of the family knows both of them better than they apparently know each other, but that’s not for us to judge. Suffice it to say, the family cleared out pretty quickly after the gifts, and last we heard, [Aunt] and [Uncle] didn’t speak to each other for an entire week after that Christmas.

I lost my father last year. It was incredibly difficult, but he had a prolonged illness, and we’re glad he’s no longer in pain.

Dad always had a darker sense of humor. When I was a teenager, he joked that:

Dad: “When I die, you should keep my ashes on the mantle. Then, when it’s time for the grandkids to visit, dump my ashes in a sandbox for them to play with grandpa!”

I’d forgotten about that until after he passed and was telling the story to friends of mine who shared his sense of humor. One of my friends starts laughing and says:

Friend: “You should put some of his ashes into a little hourglass. That way, he can be part of family game night!”

At the time, I just found it funny, but now I’m wondering if that’s really an option!

When I worked at a now-closed craft store, we offered classes for multiple types of crafting, including food crafting. This class was basically just getting people started in cake decorating, helping them learn basic techniques with piping out frosting and icing embellishments.

It was probably one of our more popular classes. But then the instructor for the class passed away unexpectedly. We had to call people and inform them that due to unforeseen circumstances, the class was cancelled and that we were looking for a new instructor, but we couldn’t tell them when we’d be holding that class again.

Everyone was understanding, even without the knowledge that the instructor had passed.  

Fast forward a few months, and we receive a phone call. I’m able to hear my coworker’s side, and she tells me the caller’s side afterwards.

Coworker: “Good afternoon, thank you for calling (store), what can I help you with this afternoon?”

Caller: “I’d like to sign up for a class, but I can’t see any dates for it on your website.”

Coworker: ” I’m sorry about that. We’ve had issues like that before. Let me log in to that system…” *Logging in while speaking.* “Thanks for the patience. Which class was it you were looking for?”

Caller: “Beginner’s cake decorating.”

Coworker: “Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am. We aren’t holding that class for the foreseeable future. We’ve been having trouble finding a new instructor for that class.”

Caller: “Well, I’ve been waiting almost a year, and you have to start that class again!”

Coworker: “Unfortunately, ma’am, we simply cannot hold a class without an instructor.”

Caller: “Well, just get the old one back!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, that’s simply not possible.”

Caller: “What’s her phone number? I’ll call her myself!”

Coworker: “I can’t do that, ma’am. Not only is it-”

Caller: “I don’t care if she’s retired, I need to take this class!”

My coworker didn’t tell me the rest of this caller’s ranting, but I know she was ranting for almost a straight minute before my coworker snapped at her back.

Coworker: “MA’AM, she’s not retired! She passed away, she’s dead, she cannot be reached! She cannot teach the course, and it wasn’t like she told us ahead of time so we could hire a new instructor!”

Caller: “Oh…” *Hangs up immediately.*