When their mother left in 1962, pregnant by their uncle and bound for California, Jay and Gina were still children. She didn’t just walk out on a marriage; she walked out on them, leaving her parents to raise the kids she no longer claimed. Years later, when she briefly returned, she showed off photos of her “new” family, laughing over beers and cards, while her abandoned children stood ignored in the same room. That moment branded itself into their memory.
So when she died at 80, they refused to rewrite history as affection. Instead, they wrote the obituary they felt she’d earned, ending with the brutal line that she “will not be missed.” The notice went viral, was pulled from the newspaper, and divided relatives. Some called it cruel; Jay and Gina called it honest. For them, the obituary wasn’t revenge. It was the only time their voices were louder than her silence.