I wasn’t sure if I was losing my mind or if something darker was haunting me. When I returned from the cemetery, the flowers I placed on my wife’s grave were waiting for me in the kitchen vase. I’d buried my wife and my guilt five years ago, but it felt like the past was clawing its way back to me.
The weight of grief never truly lifts. It’s been five years since I lost my wife, Winter, but the pain still feels fresh. Our daughter, Eliza, was just 13 when it happened. Now 18, she’s grown into a young woman who carries her mother’s absence like a silent shadow.
A concrete cross in a cemetery | Source: Pexels
I stared at the calendar, the circled date mocking me. Another year has gone by, and another anniversary was approaching. The pit in my stomach deepened as I called out to Eliza.
“I’m heading to the cemetery, dear.”
Eliza appeared in the doorway, indifference cloaking her eyes. “It’s that time again, isn’t it, Dad?”
I nodded, unable to find the words. What could I say? That I was sorry? That I missed her mother too? Instead, I grabbed my keys and headed out, leaving the silence to fill the space between us.
A calendar with a circled date | Source: Unsplash
The florist’s shop was a burst of color and fragrance. I approached the counter, my steps heavy.
“The usual, Mr. Ben?” the florist asked, her smile sympathetic.
“White roses. Just like always.”
As she wrapped the bouquet, I couldn’t help but remember the first time I’d bought Winter flowers. It was our third date, and I’d been so nervous I’d nearly dropped them.
A woman holding a bouquet of white roses | Source: Pexels
She’d laughed, her eyes sparkling, and said, “Ben, you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”
The memory faded as the florist handed me the roses. “Here you go, Mr. Ben. I’m sure she’d love them.”
“Thanks. I hope so.”
The cemetery was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves in the breeze. I made my way to Winter’s grave, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The black marble headstone came into view, her name etched in gold letters that seemed to shimmer in the weak sunlight.
A woman’s grave | Source: Midjourney
I knelt and placed the roses carefully against the stone. A pang of grief pierced my chest as my fingers traced the letters of her name.
“I miss you, Winter. God, I miss you so much.”
The wind picked up, sending a chill down my spine. For a moment, I could almost imagine it was her touch, her way of telling me she was still here.
But the cold reality settled in quickly. She was gone, and no amount of wishing would bring her back.
I stood up, brushing dirt from my knees. “I’ll be back next year, love. I promise.”
A bouquet of white roses on a gravestone | Source: Midjourney
As I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different this time. But I pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to the ever-present grief playing tricks on my mind.
The house was quiet when I returned.I headed to the kitchen, desperately in need of a strong cup of coffee.
That’s when I saw them.
On the kitchen table, in a crystal vase I didn’t recognize, stood the same roses I had just left at Winter’s grave.
A bouquet of white roses in a glass vase | Source: Pexels
My heart began to race, pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I stumbled forward, my hands shaking as I reached out to touch the petals. They were real, impossibly real.
“What the hell? Eliza!” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty house. “Eliza, are you here?”
I turned around, my eyes never leaving the roses. They were exactly the same as the ones I’d bought, with the same slight imperfections and the same dewdrops clinging to the petals.
It was impossible.
A startled man | Source: Midjourney
“This can’t be happening,” I whispered, backing away from the table. “This can’t be real.”
I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at those impossible roses. The sound of footsteps snapped me out of my trance.
“Dad? What’s wrong?”
I turned to see Eliza standing on the staircase, her eyes widening as she took in my pale face.
“What’s going on, Dad? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I pointed at the vase, my hand shaking. “Where did these roses come from, Eliza? Did you bring these home?”
A man pointing a finger | Source: Pexels
She shook her head, confusion clear on her face. “No, I’ve been out with friends. I just got back. What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “These are the exact same roses I left at your mother’s grave. Identical, Eliza. How is that possible?”
Eliza’s face paled, her eyes darting between me and the flowers. “That’s not possible, Dad. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I need to go back to the cemetery. Now.”
A stunned woman | Source: Pexels
The drive back to the cemetery was a blur. My mind raced with possibilities, each more unlikely than the last.
Had someone followed me? Had I imagined leaving the flowers earlier? Was I losing my mind?
Eliza was adamant about coming with me, but the ride was filled with an uncomfortable silence.
As we approached Winter’s grave, my heart sank. The spot where I’d carefully placed the roses was empty. No flowers and no sign that I’d been there at all.
A bare gravestone | Source: Pexels
“They’re gone. How can they be gone?”
Eliza knelt down, running her hand over the bare ground. “Dad, are you sure you left them here? Maybe you forgot—”
I shook my head vehemently. “No, I’m certain. I placed them right here, just a few hours ago.”
She stood up, her eyes meeting mine.
“Let’s go home, Dad. We need to figure this out.”
A young lady looking up | Source: Midjourney
Back at the house, the roses still sat on the kitchen table. Eliza and I stood on opposite sides, the flowers between us like a barrier.
“There has to be an explanation, Dad. Maybe Mom is trying to tell us something.”
I laughed. “Your mother is dead, Eliza. Dead people don’t send messages.”
“Then how do you explain this?” she shot back, gesturing at the roses. “Because I’m running out of logical explanations.”
A distressed man | Source: Pexels
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration and fear bubbling inside me. “I don’t know, Eliza! I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not… it can’t be…”
My voice trailed off as I noticed something tucked under the vase. A small, folded piece of paper I hadn’t seen before. With trembling hands, I reached for it.
“What is it, Dad?”
A note tucked beneath a bouquet of white roses | Source: Midjourney
I unfolded the note, my heart stopping as I recognized the handwriting. Winter’s handwriting.
“I know the truth, and I forgive you. But it’s time for you to face what you’ve hidden.”
The room spun, and I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. “No, this can’t be—” I whispered.
A man holding a piece of paper bearing a message | Source: Midjourney
Eliza snatched the note from my hand, her eyes widening as she read it. “Dad, what truth? What have you hidden?”
The weight of five years of lies and guilt came crashing down on me. I sank into a chair, unable to meet Eliza’s eyes.
“Your mother,” I began, my voice cracking. “The night she died… it wasn’t just an accident.”
An upset man | Source: Pexels
Eliza’s sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. “What do you mean?”
I forced myself to look at her and face the pain in her eyes. “We had a fight that night. A big one. She found out I’d been having an affair.”
“An affair? You cheated on Mom?”
I nodded, shame burning in my chest. “It was a mistake, dear. A terrible mistake. I tried to end it, but your mother found out before I could. She was so angry and hurt. She stormed out of the house, got in the car—”
“And never came back,” Eliza finished, her voice cold.
A young lady looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“I never told anyone,” I continued, the words pouring out now. “I couldn’t bear for people to know the truth. To know that her death was my fault.”
Eliza was silent for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the roses. When she finally spoke, her voice was eerily calm.
“I knew, Dad!”
My head snapped up, disbelief engulfing me. “What do you mean, you knew?”
Close-up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney
Eliza’s eyes met mine, and I saw years of pain and anger burning in them.
“I’ve known for years, Dad. Mom told me everything before she left that night. I found her diary after she died. I’ve known all along.”
“You’ve known? All this time?”
She nodded, her jaw clenched. “I wanted you to admit it. I needed to hear you say it.”
A furious young woman | Source: Midjourney
Realization dawned on me, cold and horrifying. “The roses and the note? It was you?”
“I followed you to the cemetery and took the flowers from Mom’s grave. I wanted you to feel the betrayal and hurt she felt. I copied her handwriting and left this note with the flowers because I wanted you to know that you can’t hide from the truth forever.”
“Why now? After all these years?”
A stunned man covering his mouth | Source: Midjourney
Eliza’s eyes flicked to the calendar on the wall.
“Five years, Dad. Five years of watching you play the grieving widower while I carried the weight of your secret. I couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Eliza, I—”
“Mom forgave you. She wrote that in her diary. But I’m not sure I can,” Eliza cut me off, her words a dagger to my heart.
A diary on a table | Source: Pixabay
She turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with the roses, the same roses that had once symbolized love, now an ominous reminder of the deceit that had torn our family apart.
I reached out and touched a soft white petal, realizing that some wounds never truly heal. They wait, hidden beneath the surface until the truth forces them into the light.
Matthew Perry has reportedly died. The “Friends” actor was 54
Actor Matthew Perry, famously known for the role of Chandler Bing in the iconic show Friends, was found dead Saturday in a hot tub at his Los Angeles home, law enforcement has reported.
Spokesperson of the LA Fire Department reported that first responders arrived at Perry’s home at about 4 p.m. regarding a “water emergency” of an unknown type, but did not name the actor. Sadly, upon arrival, they discovered Perry’s unresponsive body. According to them, there were no drugs of any type at the scene. At the time being, no foul play is suspected.
A representative of the actor hasn’t issued any comments regarding the tragic incident.
The investigation over Perry’s passing is still ongoing and the cause of death remains unknown. It will be determined by the Los Angeles County coroner’s office at a later date.
“We are devastated by the passing of our dear friend Matthew Perry,” Warner Bros. Television Group, which produced “Friends,” said in a statement to The Times. “Matthew was an incredibly gifted actor and an indelible part of the Warner Bros. Television Group family. The impact of his comedic genius was felt around the world, and his legacy will live on in the hearts of so many. This is a heartbreaking day, and we send our love to his family, his loved ones, and all of his devoted fans.”
“We are incredibly saddened by the too soon passing of Matthew Perry,” NBC, which aired the series for all 10 seasons, said in its own statement to The Times. “He brought so much joy to hundreds of millions of people around the world with his pitch perfect comedic timing and wry wit. His legacy will live on through countless generations.”
Saturday evening yellow-and-black LAPD crime scene tape blocked off the entrance to Blue Sail Drive, a tony street just off the Pacific Coast Highway at the crest of a hill with sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean.
Shortly after 7 p.m., as multiple helicopters whirred overhead, Perry’s mother, Suzanne, and her husband, broadcaster Keith Morrison, joined the journalists and LAPD officers on the scene. Morrison declined to comment. An LAPD officer at the scene said he had no information and that he did not know when any would be forthcoming.
Peter, a neighbor of Perry’s on Bluesail Drive who declined to give his last name Saturday evening, said he only spoke to the actor once, for five minutes, and that he was “very pleasant” and a “nice guy.”
“It’s shocking,” Peter said as he waited for the LAPD, who had barred journalists from passing the police tape, to approve him for entry. “He’s been redoing this house forever and he seemed fine. It’s very sad.”
Leo, another neighbor who declined to give his full name, said he was home when an ambulance arrived at Perry’s house Saturday afternoon. He declined to say whether paramedics tried to revive Perry or if a body was removed from the premises.
“I was shocked,” he said. “It was very disturbing and sad after all these years.”
Perry was one of his favorite actors, Leo said, and the funniest member of the “Friends” cast.
“I encountered him once and he was very, very friendly. More so than I thought,” Leo said. “It’s definitely a tragedy, especially at such a young age,” he added. “I was very heartbroken to see what happened.”
(Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
Perry, the son of actor John Bennett Perry and Suzanne Marie Langford, onetime press secretary of Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, was born in 1969 and grew up between Montreal and Los Angeles after his parents separated when Perry was 1.
He got his start as a child actor, landing guest spots on “Charles in Charge” and “Beverly Hills 90210” and playing opposite River Phoenix in the film “A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon” in the 1980s and early 1990s.
But his big break came when he was cast in “Friends” — originally titled “Friends Like Us” — a sitcom about six single New Yorkers navigating adulthood that premiered on NBC in 1994.
The series soon became a juggernaut, the anchor of the network’s vaunted Thursday-night “Must-See TV” lineup, and turned Perry and his castmates Jennifer Aniston, Courteney Cox, Lisa Kudrow, Matt LeBlanc and David Schwimmer into mega-stars almost overnight. At its high-water mark — for a 1996 Super Bowl episode and the 2004 series finale — the series could notch more than 50 million live viewers; by its end, cast members were earning more than $1 million an episode.
As Chandler Bing, the handsome, wisecracking roommate of LeBlanc’s Joey Tribbiani and, later, love interest of Cox’s fastidious Monica Geller, Perry distinguished himself in a crackling ensemble cast. With his dry delivery he created a catchphrase with a mere turn of inflection, based on banter he’d shared with childhood friends: Could he be any more Chandler?
Soon, he was attached to major stars like Julia Roberts and appearing in prominent films such as 1997 rom-com “Fools Rush In,” opposite Salma Hayek, and 2000 ensemble mob comedy “The Whole Nine Yards” with Bruce Willis.
There was a dark side to the life of one of television’s most beloved funnymen, however. In his 2022 memoir, “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing,” Perry recounted his lifelong struggle with addiction to alcohol and opioids. He wrote that he had his first drink at 14, but didn’t recognize the signs of alcoholism until 21. Since then, he estimated, he’d spent more than $7 million on efforts to get sober, including multiple stints in rehab. His substance abuse also led to a number of serious health issues, including a five-month hospitalization in 2018 following a colon rupture that left him, he wrote, with a 2% chance to live through the night.
And it was fueled, he acknowledged during a “Friends” reunion special in 2021, by the pressure to land the joke in front of a live studio audience night after night.
(NBC / NBCUniversal via Getty Images)
“Nobody wanted to be famous more than me,” Perry told The Times in April, discussing “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing” at the Festival of Books. “I was convinced it was the answer. I was 25, it was the second year of ‘Friends,’ and eight months into it, I realized the American dream is not making me happy, not filling the holes in my life. I couldn’t get enough attention. … Fame does not do what you think it’s going to do. It was all a trick.”
Perry was remembered on Saturday by friends and collaborators such as Selma Blair, Paget Brewster, Morgan Fairchild and Mira Sorvino as a singular comic talent and kind soul.
Perry’s “Friends” co-star Maggie Wheeler, who played his on-again, off-again girlfriend Janice on the hit show, shared a sweet tribute on Instagram.
“What a loss. The world will miss you Mathew Perry,” she wrote. “The joy you brought to so many in your too short lifetime will live on. I feel so very blessed by every creative moment we shared.”
He was also memorialized by Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, Pierre’s son and one of Perry’s childhood friends.
“Matthew Perry’s passing is shocking and saddening,” Trudeau wrote on X. “I’ll never forget the schoolyard games we used to play, and I know people around the world are never going to forget the joy he brought them. Thanks for all the laughs, Matthew. You were loved — and you will be missed.”
Though Perry estimated he had relapsed “60 or 70 times” since first getting sober in 2001, he maintained a steady presence on American television, playing key parts in backstage dramedy “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” and therapy sitcom “Go On,” and making a steady stream of guest appearances on acclaimed shows such as “The West Wing” and “The Good Wife.”
Since his near-death experience in 2018, Perry had found solace in friends, frequent games of pickleball and, especially, writing. Though producing “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing” had forced him to relive his darkest moments, it also connected him to “all the sufferers out there”: “I had a story to tell, a story that could really help people,” he wrote. “And helping others had become the answer for me.”
Indeed, for all his success as an actor and, more recently, as a bestselling memoirist, Perry told The Times in April that his work was not the center of what he hoped would be his legacy.
Pressed to name how he’d like to be remembered, he said: “As a guy who lived life, loved well, lived well and helped people. That running into me was a good thing, and not something bad.”
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