While Dressing My Late Husband for His Funeral, I Found Coordinates Hidden under His Hairline – They Led Me to a Storage Unit I Never Knew Existed
I shook my head.
This couldn’t be happening. Thomas didn’t keep secrets! He was the type of person who kept receipts in labeled folders and had a system for his sock drawer. He told me when he bought new underwear, for Pete’s sake!
That was one of the things I had loved about him — you always knew where you stood with Thomas.
I stared down at the red pin on the map.
Except, apparently, you didn’t.
This couldn’t be happening.
I didn’t sleep that night.
Instead, I searched for the key to that storage unit.
I opened his dresser and rifled through his clothes. The smell of him was still caught in the fabric, but there was no key.
Then I went through his coat pockets. I found receipts, a gum wrapper, and a pen from the bank.
I opened his briefcase next and gasped.
A key lay right on top of his laptop!
I searched for the key to that storage unit.
I lifted it out, and my heart sank. It was just the key to Thomas’s desk in the garage.
At 1:15, I climbed into the attic in my nightgown and bare feet, pulling the cord for the light. I hadn’t been up there in years.
“Margaret, you’ll break your neck up there,” he used to warn me. Then he’d head up and do whatever needed doing.
I stood in the middle of all those boxes we’d accumulated together over four decades. There weren’t nearly as many boxes as I thought there would be.
It was just the key to Thomas’s desk in the garage.
I opened Christmas bins, old tax boxes, and everything else in between.
I found nothing.
There was just one place left to look.
Around 2 a.m., I went into the garage. He’d always insisted it was his space.
“Don’t reorganize it,” he would say. “I know where everything is.”
His tools hung on a pegboard exactly where he had left them. His workbench was clean. His desk sat against the far wall.
There was just one place left to look.
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