If you find a coin on a loved one’s gravestone, you had better know what it means

We all have different traditions when it comes to commemorating and paying tribute to our loved ones who have passed away.

In today’s world, honoring the customs of others while commemorating the lives of the departed ought to come as standard practice. Some may choose to follow traditions or practices that the rest of us are not familiar with, but it doesn’t make them any less legitimate.

The same is true with gravestones and the ornamentation certain families choose to place over their loved ones’ last resting places. Coins being placed on headstones is one custom that is widely practiced and that you have probably witnessed at some point. However, why is this even a thing? And from whence did it originate? Continue reading to learn more.

Coins are traditionally placed on gravestones in cemeteries around the United States and other countries. When I was a little child, I first observed it when I was at my grandfather’s tomb, and even then, I started to wonder what it was all about.

Luckily, finding the beginnings online doesn’t need much research. Although it was previously thought that the practice originated with Roman military troops, a number of sources have disproved that theory in recent years.

Still, there’s a military connection to leaving pennies on gravestones. The American Legion Website states on one of its pages that it can be linked to the Vietnam War.

“Leaving a coin was considered a more practical way to communicate that you had visited the soldier’s grave than contacting the soldier’s family, which could devolve into an uncomfortable argument over politics relating to the war, due to the political divide in the country over the war.”

There are other reasons why veterans leave pennies on gravestones in memory of their fallen friends; occasionally, they do so in order to purchase a beer for them. Each coin represents a different meaning, according to reports.

For instance, a nickel is left by someone who served in boot camp with the deceased, whereas a penny just indicates that someone was present.

On the other hand, a dime represents a combined period of military service. Next are quarters, which inform the family of the presence of whoever left the coin at the moment of the loved one’s passing.

Ever notice a penny left on a gravestone? Were you aware of its meaning? Tell us in the comments below.

My Stepmom Returned My Prom Dress to the Store Just a Day Before the Dance — the Reason Left Me Speechless

The night before prom, Gia is ready to lay out her clothes and have an easy night. But as she opens her closet to take out her dress, she finds it missing. Later, she discovers that her stepmother, Cindy, had returned the dress to the store… What on earth could be the reason?

My mom died when I was ten.

It was sudden, like the world had just stopped spinning. One minute, she was tucking me into bed, and the next, she was gone.

Flowers on a headstone | Source: Midjourney

Flowers on a headstone | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll always be with you, Gia,” she said one day as she tucked me in, her hands shaking wildly. “Whether I’m right next to you or not, I’ll always be here. Do you understand?”

I remember nodding sleepily as she kissed my cheek.

Losing her crushed my dad and me in ways I still can’t put into words. We were just completely… lost.

A woman tucking her daughter into bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman tucking her daughter into bed | Source: Midjourney

Then, a few years later, Dad married someone new. Cindy. Now, Cindy wasn’t evil or cruel or anything like that. If I’m being honest, she tried. She smiled a lot, bought me gifts, and cooked things that I enjoyed eating. She even waited for me to come home from school, ready to make me a toasted sandwich while asking me about my day.

But no matter what Cindy did, she wasn’t my mom. My heart just didn’t seem to let her in. And because of that, we never really clicked on a personal level.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

Fast forward to senior year:

I’m 17 and waiting for prom. And for the first time in forever, I felt excited about something. Dad gave me a budget for a dress, and I spent weeks scouring the internet for ideas.

When I finally found it, a gorgeous deep-blue gown that made me feel like an actual princess, I knew that it was the one.

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

“That’s it, Gia!” my friend Selene said as I stepped out of the dressing room.

“You think?” I asked. “You really think so?”

“Yes! Your eyes pop with the blue, and your skin looks so good with it. This is it, Gia. Don’t even waste your time looking for another dress.”

I smiled.

“Fine, let’s focus on you now,” I said.

A teenage girl in a dressing room | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl in a dressing room | Source: Midjourney

Standing in front of the mirror at the boutique, I felt like I could see the old me again, the one from before my life flipped upside down. There was a light in my eyes again.

Everything seemed perfect. For once, it felt like the universe was giving me a break. But that all shattered the day before prom.

I got home from school, ready to get into a bubble bath, shave, wash my hair, and have an early night. I was going to lay everything out before I went to bed — my dress, shoes, makeup options, all of it.

A teenage girl's vanity | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl’s vanity | Source: Midjourney

I ran up the stairs and flung my closet door open, hoping to give my dress a look-over before I got into the bath.

But it wasn’t there.

All I saw was the empty hanger.

I blinked hard, as if somehow my dream dress would magically appear before my eyes. Of course, it didn’t.

Where on earth is my dress?

An empty hanger | Source: Midjourney

An empty hanger | Source: Midjourney

I yanked things off hangers and tore through drawers. Maybe I’d been careless and shoved it somewhere, right?

But deep down, I knew I hadn’t. I was so paranoid about wrinkling the dress that I had taken clothes off the hanger the day I brought it home. That dress had been the centerpiece of my week. I would never have misplaced it.

I ran downstairs, hoping to see my dad. He would have answers.

A close up of a teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

Instead, Cindy was sitting at the kitchen island, cutting into veggies and sipping her tea like nothing was wrong.

“Gigi,” she said, using a name that only my dad called me. “Dad is away for the night because of work. He said that he’ll try to be back in time to see you off tomorrow.”

How could she talk like nothing happened? Like nothing was wrong?

A woman busy in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman busy in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Cindy!” I exclaimed. “Have you seen my prom dress? It’s gone!”

She looked up, completely calm, like I hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of the kitchen. I was starting to feel panicked. I could taste bitterness on my tongue. I was on the verge of a breakdown.

“Oh, that? Gia, I returned that to the store.”

“You did what?” I gasped.

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

It felt like my brain had short-circuited.

“I returned it,” she repeated as if she was telling me she’d picked up groceries at the store. “It just didn’t seem right, Gigi. It was too grown-up for you.”

I stood there, unable to move.

“How could you do that? Prom is tomorrow evening! Why would you touch my stuff without asking me?”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

Cindy tilted her head like I was overreacting.

“You’ll understand tomorrow,” she said quietly, sipping her tea.

Her nonchalance lit something inside me. I couldn’t believe she was acting so casual, like she hadn’t just taken the one thing I’d been looking forward to for months and thrown it in the trash.

I stormed up to my room, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I buried my face in my pillow, tears soaking into the fabric.

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

How could she do this to me?

That night, I cried myself to sleep, my anger burning hot and bitter. I felt betrayed. She had no right to mess with my dress. She had no right to interfere with my prom.

But what did I expect?

Cindy wasn’t my mother.

An upset girl in her bed | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl in her bed | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up to the heavy weight of disappointment. I didn’t even want to go to prom anymore.

What was the point?

But Selene wasn’t having it.

“You need to find out why she did it,” she said over the phone. “It’s weird, right? Like, she has to have a reason. Just… talk to her, Gia.”

A girl talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A girl talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I rolled my eyes.

“There’s no reason good enough for what she did.”

“Maybe,” Selene said. “But don’t you want to know?”

Selene had a point, and she knew it. So, against my better judgment, I dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs.

A girl talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney

A girl talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney

Cindy was waiting for me, dressed in jeans and an old sweatshirt, looking more nervous than I’d ever seen her.

“Come with me, Gigi,” she said quietly.

I stared at her for a long second. A part of me wanted to blow her off entirely. But there was something in her voice, something soft.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

Without a word, I followed her to her bedroom.

There was a box on her bed, wrapped in a bow.

“This belonged to your mom,” Cindy whispered, her voice catching. “I found it while cleaning a few weeks ago. I’ve been wanting to turn the attic into something new, like a little reading room.”

I froze.

A box on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A box on a bed | Source: Midjourney

My heart hammered in my chest as she peeled away the tissue paper, revealing an elegant, vintage white dress. It was stunning — lace sleeves, delicate beadwork, the kind of timeless beauty that would never go out of style.

Cindy glanced up at me, her hands trembling slightly.

“I thought maybe you’d like to wear it. To prom. When I returned the blue dress, I took this one to be dry-cleaned.”

A dress in a box | Source: Midjourney

A dress in a box | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even think.

All the anger, all the resentment, all the hurt I’d held onto melted into shock.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, my darling,” Cindy whispered. “I just thought that this way, your mom could be with you. I will never replace her, Gia. But I wanted to give you something that mattered.”

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them. All this time, I’d been so sure she was trying to ruin my prom. But instead, she was giving me the most meaningful gift she ever could.

That night, I wore my mom’s dress to prom.

As soon as I slipped it on, I felt her with me, like she was wrapping me in a hug. The dress fit perfectly. Cindy helped me with my hair, and for the first time, I saw her not as someone trying to replace my mom, but as someone who cared. For me. Deeply.

A crying teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A crying teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

When I walked downstairs, my dad was waiting. His eyes widened, and his breath caught.

“Thank goodness I made it,” he said, tears brimming in his eyes. “You look just like Mom!”

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

The prom was magical. And as I danced with my friends, I saw once again that Cindy hadn’t stolen anything from me. She’d given me something priceless.

A way to feel connected with my mom again. And I felt so beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

A teenage girl in her prom dress | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl in her prom dress | Source: Midjourney

When I got home, Cindy was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket.

“You’re waiting up for me?” I asked, kicking off my shoes.

“Of course, my darling,” she said. “I wanted to know how your night went. And I’ve got ice cream in the freezer. Mint choc-chip. Your favorite. We can eat it while you tell me.”

That’s when I broke down. In that moment, I knew Cindy wasn’t just my dad’s wife. She was someone who loved me, too.

And maybe, just maybe, that was going to be enough.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*