Understanding the context around these traditions can help mourners navigate their goodbyes with sensitivity and clarity.
Emotionally, kissing a deceased loved one can offer comfort and create a sense of closure. The physical gesture may help express feelings that are otherwise too raw to articulate. Yet for some, the experience can stir unexpected reactions.
The stillness, the coldness, the visual reminder of life’s fragility can deepen sorrow or trigger feelings of guilt, confusion, or discomfort afterward. In rare cases, returning repeatedly to physical contact with the deceased may signal difficulty accepting the loss and may hinder the natural grieving process.
For those unsure about the emotional weight or practical considerations of such contact, meaningful alternatives can provide a similar sense of farewell. Holding the person’s hand, placing a gentle touch on the arm, speaking final words aloud, or engaging in rituals like lighting candles, writing letters, or participating in spiritual rites can all help create closure without overwhelming the mourner.
These symbolic acts often provide the same emotional release while offering a gentler way to say goodbye.
Ultimately, the desire to kiss a loved one who has passed is a deeply human response to grief — an expression of love reaching beyond the boundary of life itself. There is no universally “right” or “wrong” action in these moments, only what feels respectful, safe, and emotionally supportive. Approaching the impulse with awareness allows mourners to honor their loved ones while caring for their own well-being, creating a farewell that is both heartfelt and healing.
We lived on a quiet cul-de-sac where everyone knew everyone — except for Ms.
Abby, the elderly woman in the ivy-covered house at the end of the street. Her curtains were always drawn, her hedges overgrown, and kids whispered spooky stories about her every Halloween. I never paid much attention to the gossip, but I also never had a reason to approach her.
That changed when my son Gerry burst through the door one afternoon announcing that she had invited him over to bake cookies. It seemed strange coming from someone so private, but Gerry was excited, so I agreed. Each day afterward he returned from her house happier than ever, talking about old recipes and vintage kitchen gadgets.
I told myself he was simply being kind to a lonely neighbor — until he came home holding an envelope of cash.
At first it was just $10, which I tried to brush off as a small thank-you for helping her with dishes or chores. But the next week, it became $20, and when I pressed Gerry about it, he grew nervous and confessed there was a “surprise” he couldn’t tell me about. That was the moment my gut tightened.
Why would a reclusive elderly woman give a child money and keep secrets from his mother? The next day, I walked Gerry to her house myself, but he slipped inside quickly and shut the door before I could speak to Ms. Abby.
Anxiety pushed me around the back of the house, where I found a small gap in the curtains. One glance inside froze me in place: photos of me and Gerry were spread across the table — some from my social media, others candid from around the neighborhood. Heart pounding, I rushed through the unlocked back door, grabbed my son, and called the police immediately.
Two officers arrived and spoke to Ms.
Abby while I waited outside with Gerry, still shaking with fear and anger. When an officer finally asked me to come back in, her tone was calm — almost gentle. Inside, Ms.
Abby tearfully explained that she had lost her daughter and grandson a few years earlier. Gerry reminded her of the boy she’d lost. When he mentioned my upcoming birthday, she suggested making a scrapbook like the ones her grandson used to make her.
The photos were gathered with Gerry’s help, and the money she’d given him was to print them at school. She admitted she should have involved me sooner but said she hadn’t realized how to explain without breaking down. My anger melted into embarrassment as the truth sank in: I had let fear paint the worst picture of someone who was simply grieving and trying to connect.
Everything softened after that.
The police left, I apologized, and Gerry proudly showed me the scrapbook they’d been working on. In the weeks that followed, Ms. Abby slowly stepped back into the world — gardening, chatting with neighbors, even sharing cookies with other kids.
She wasn’t suddenly outgoing, but she wasn’t hidden anymore. And as I watched my son help her rediscover a little joy, I realized something important: sometimes children see the good in people long before adults allow themselves to.
upgrades to its Scan & Go technology. This mobile feature allows customers to scan items with their phones as they shop, bag products immediately, and skip the traditional checkout process altogether.
For shoppers who want to move at their own pace without unloading carts or waiting in lines, the improved system offers noticeable convenience and flexibility.
Once shoppers finish their purchases in the app, they simply walk through a Mobile Express verification area where their digital receipt is confirmed. The process is quick and secure, preserving the streamlined feel that Scan & Go is designed for. Walmart has also introduced digital coupon integration, making it easier for customers to browse deals and apply savings directly within the app without clipping or carrying physical coupons.
Budget-conscious shoppers can now access discounts with a single tap.
Another helpful update includes the ability to scan QR codes on physical receipts to instantly access digital copies. This improvement simplifies returns and makes it easier for customers to track spending or keep purchase records. Together with expanded self-checkout lanes in many stores, Walmart is creating multiple options for shoppers who prefer contactless, quick, or tech-driven experiences.
These enhancements highlight Walmart’s ongoing effort to blend in-store convenience with modern digital tools.
Whether shoppers want to zip through the store using Scan & Go, use self-checkout during busy hours, or simply save time with digital receipts and coupons, the upgrades make everyday shopping easier. By embracing new technology, Walmart is reinforcing its commitment to efficient, customer-focused service for every shopper who walks through its doors.
When my mom told me she finally had a boyfriend, I was genuinely happy for her. She’d spent years alone, healing, rebuilding her life, and she deserved love more than anyone I knew.
She spoke about him with a softness I hadn’t heard in ages — his kindness, his humor, the way he made her feel young again. The only strange part was that I had never met him, not once, and she’d never shown me a photo. Still, wanting to respect her new beginning, I didn’t push.
That changed the night she invited me over for dinner. I showed up nervous and excited, wanting everything to go perfectly… until the door opened, and I saw him. Aaron.
My ex-boyfriend. The man who broke me two years ago and disappeared without a word.
I froze in the doorway, barely able to breathe as he stood beside my mom, smiling and holding her hand. His expression shifted the moment he saw me — recognition, shock, guilt — but he said nothing.
Dinner felt like torture. They laughed, shared inside jokes, touched hands. Every sweet phrase he used on her, he had once used on me.
Every story he told her, he’d once whispered to me like a secret. I watched my mom glow with genuine happiness, and that hurt more than the heartbreak he’d left me with years ago. When he slipped into the kitchen to grab more wine, I followed.
My voice shook as I demanded answers. He admitted he hadn’t known she was my mother, that he’d met her by chance, and that he had left me because he’d been battling severe depression and didn’t want to “drag me down.” It didn’t erase the pain, but it complicated everything.
Just then, my mother walked in, radiant in a way I hadn’t seen her in years. And in that instant, something inside me shifted.
This wasn’t the moment to unravel her joy. This wasn’t the time to explode from my own hurt. What happened between him and me was the past — and what existed between him and my mother was happening now.
Whatever came next would shape not just my future, but hers. So I took a breath and told her I wanted to talk privately later. Not to ruin her night, not to punish her, but because I owed us both the chance to understand the situation fully before reacting from a place of shock and pain.
This story is far from over.
There are truths to confront, boundaries to set, and emotions I still need to untangle. But I will choose grace before chaos. I will protect my mother’s happiness without sacrificing my own healing.
Maybe people can change. Maybe trust can be rebuilt. Maybe this strange twist in our lives is guiding us toward conversations that were long overdue.
For now, I’m choosing patience — for her sake, and for mine.
