While Dressing My Late Husband for His Funeral, I Found Coordinates Hidden under His Hairline

I rummaged through his things after opening his dresser. There was no key, yet the fabric still had his scent.

I then searched the pockets of his coat. I discovered a pen from the bank, a gum wrapper, and receipts.

Next, I gasped as I opened his briefcase.

On top of his laptop was a key!

I looked for that storage unit’s key.

My heart fell when I lifted it out. It was simply the key to Thomas’s garage desk.

In my nightgown and bare feet, I ascended into the attic at 1:15 and pulled the light’s cord. It had been years since I had been up there.He used to tell me, “Margaret, you’ll break your neck up there.” After that, he would get up and take care of whatever needed to be done.

I was standing in the center of all the boxes we had amassed over the course of forty years. The number of boxes was far less than what I had anticipated.

It was simply the key to Thomas’s garage desk.

I opened old tax boxes, Christmas bins, and everything in between.

Nothing was found by me.

Only one location remained to search.

I entered the garage at around two in the morning. It was his space, he had always insisted.”Don’t rearrange it,” he would advise. “I know where everything is.”

His tools were precisely where he had left them, hanging on a pegboard. He had a tidy workstation. His desk leaned against the distant wall.

Only one location remained to search.