“I Can’t Move It,” the Real Reason Morgan Freeman Wore Only One Glove at the Oscars

When Morgan Freeman escorted Margot Robbie on stage at the 2023 Oscars, his left arm caught the attention of many. In fact, the 85-year-old actor wore an elbow-length satin black glove, which raised many concerns. And the reason behind it goes back to a heartbreaking event that transformed Freeman’s life 15 years ago.

Back in 2008, the Shawshank Redemption star was injured in a serious car accident that left him with a paralyzed left hand.

After the crash, Freeman had to undergo a 4-hour surgery in order to deal with his broken left shoulder, arm, and elbow.

A couple of years after the unfortunate event, the acclaimed actor opened up about his struggle, saying ’’I suffered nerve damage, and it hasn’t gotten better, I can’t move it.’’

He added, ’’If you don’t move your hand, it will swell up. Do you know you move your hand about a million times a day?’’

And even though doctors had reassured him that his hand would get better by 2011, this unfortunately didn’t happen to be the case.

Freeman ended up with permanent nerve damage and is still unable to wiggle his fingers.

And it seems that even 15 years later, the Oscar-winning actor is still dealing with the consequences of his accident, as we saw him wearing a glove during the ceremony.

According to experts, the compression glove works by lightly squeezing the veins in one’s hand to support blood circulation and can even help to manage tingling, pain, and swelling.

I Found My Husband Embracing Our New Neighbor and Was Shocked by the Resemblance of Her Son

My husband had been visiting our beautiful new neighbor quite often, helping with heavy boxes or fixing a lightbulb. One day, I couldn’t take it anymore and went over with some cookies, pretending to be a friendly neighbor. That’s when I saw a little boy… He was the spitting image of my husband!

I began noticing how often David helped our new neighbor, Lauren. At first, it seemed harmless—carrying boxes, fixing a broken door, simple things neighbors usually do. But as the days went by, his visits to her house became more frequent.

“Why do you keep going over there?” I asked him one night, my voice betrayed a hint of annoyance.

He shrugged, barely looking up from his phone.

“She just needs help with a few things. It’s no big deal, Sarah.”

“No big deal? You’ve been over there almost every day this week.”

David sighed, brushing me off with a wave of his hand.

“You’re overthinking this. She’s a single mom; she just needs some support. It’s nothing.”

He wouldn’t cheat on me, right? Not David. He’s just being kind, that’s all.

For a moment, I let it go, convincing myself that my husband couldn’t be doing anything wrong. But then came that afternoon, the one that changed everything.

I came home earlier than usual. As I walked up the driveway, I saw them.

David and Lauren were standing on her porch. They were close, too close. And then it happened. His arms wrapped around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

What is he doing? Why is he holding her like that?

Suddenly, all those little doubts I had shoved aside came crashing down, louder than ever.

David, my David, was cheating.

The next morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something. Sitting there, watching David act like nothing was wrong, was driving me crazy.

I had to see Lauren myself. Maybe I was wrong, and there was some innocent explanation for all of this. But if there wasn’t, I needed to know.

I grabbed a box of cookies, hoping it would make me look friendly instead of nosy.

“Just a neighborly visit,” I told myself, walking across the street to Lauren’s house.

Lauren opened the door, looking surprised to see me.

“Oh, hi, Sarah!”

“Hi, Lauren,” I replied, holding up the cookies like a peace offering.

“I thought I’d bring these over. You know, just to say ‘welcome to the neighborhood.’”

“That’s so sweet of you. Come in.”

Lauren was still a bit shocked.

The house smelled faintly of fresh paint, and toys were scattered around the living room. As we made small talk, my eyes darted around, searching for any sign of David’s presence, anything that might confirm my worst fears. I could hardly focus on what Lauren was saying.

Suddenly, a small boy came running into the room, giggling. He couldn’t have been older than five. He had dark hair, the same shade as David’s, and those familiar brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

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“Max, say hi,” Lauren said, smiling at the boy.

Max waved shyly before running off to play. I stood there, frozen. That boy… he looked so much like David.

Could it be? Could Max be David’s son?

The resemblance was uncanny, and the thought that David might have a child with Lauren twisted my gut in ways I didn’t think were possible.

“Sarah, it’s Max’s birthday, and we’re having a little party. Nothing too big, just a few friends, cake, you know. Come with David. It will be fun!”

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