Bruce Willis celebrated his 69th birthday on March 19, 2024 and his wife decided to honor him publicly. She got candid in a message addressed directly to the fans about how she sees her husband. Needless to say, it can make even the toughest person get emotional.
Emma Hemming Willis, who has been married to Bruce Willis for almost 15 years, didn’t hold back when creating her birthday post for the Hollywood veteran. Alongside a photo of the actor holding one of their daughters, Emma poured her heart in the caption.
«Just like you, we simply adore him,» she began. «What you might not know, but maybe you could imagine, that being wrapped in his arms is the safest place in this whole wide world.»
«He’s a true gentle-man. With so much love to give and share,» she continued. «That’s what I get to see, his true core. I can tell you, it’s so pure and ever so good.»
«Happy Birthday my love. You are the gift that keeps giving 
»
Bruce, who has been been away from the spotlight ever since his frontotemporal dementia diagnosis was made public in 2023, received nothing but unconditional support from those reacting to the Instagram post, including from his daughters with Demi Moore. «I love you so much. I love him so much! Our Pisces king,» wrote Tallulah; «Love this pic,» added Rummer.
Others spoke on their own experiences living with someone with dementia. «My husband has dementia also. He too is such a kind and gentle soul, still with such capacity for love and laughter. I just wish everyone took the time to see it,» one user commented.
«I know what you mean about seeing his true core. My Dad was diagnosed with FTD in 2021 and for all of the hardship, it really does show you who they are at their essence,» another agreed.
Like Emma, Julia Roberts decided to celebrate her husband’s birthday with a special post on social media. However, the reaction from the public wasn’t quite as heartwarming. Quite a few people brought up an unknown woman in the comments’ section, raising question about how their relationship began. Find out more about it here.
Preview photo credit emmahemingwillis / Instagram, emmahemingwillis / Instagram
I MARRIED A WIDOWER WITH A SMALL SON – ONE DAY, THE BOY TOLD ME THAT HIS REAL MOM STILL LIVES IN OUR HOUSE
The antique clock in the hallway chimed six times, its resonant tones echoing through the quiet house. I knelt on the living room carpet, building a precarious tower of blocks with Lucas, my five-year-old stepson. He giggled, his small hands clumsily placing a wobbly blue block atop the structure.
“Careful, Lucas,” I cautioned, “it’s going to fall!”
He squealed with delight as the tower swayed, then crashed to the ground. But his laughter died abruptly, replaced by a wide-eyed stare directed towards the hallway.
“Mom says you shouldn’t touch her things,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
A shiver ran down my spine. “What do you mean, sweetie?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
He pointed towards the hallway, his eyes fixed on something I couldn’t see. “Mom says she doesn’t like it when you move her picture.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Lucas,” I said, forcing a smile, “your mom… she’s not here anymore, remember?”
He shook his head, his expression serious. “No, she is. She’s right there.”
I followed his gaze, my eyes scanning the empty hallway. There was nothing there, just the familiar antique furniture and the framed photographs on the wall. Yet, Lucas’s words echoed in my mind, fueling a growing unease that had been plaguing me for weeks.
It had started with a simple whisper, a chilling confession as I tucked him into bed one night. “My real mom still lives here,” he had said, his voice barely a breath.
I had dismissed it as a child’s overactive imagination, a way of coping with the loss of his mother. But then, strange things started happening. Lucas’s toys, meticulously tidied away, would reappear in the middle of the living room floor. Kitchen cabinets, carefully organized, would be found rearranged overnight. And the photograph of Ben’s late wife, Mary, which I had moved to a less prominent spot, kept returning to its original place on the mantelpiece, perfectly dusted.
I had tried to rationalize it, to attribute it to forgetfulness or coincidence. But the incidents grew more frequent, more unsettling. And Ben, my husband, seemed oblivious, or perhaps, deliberately blind to it all.
“Ben,” I had said one evening, my voice trembling, “have you noticed anything… strange happening around the house?”
He had looked at me, his brow furrowed. “Strange? Like what?”
I hesitated, unsure how to articulate the growing sense of unease that had taken root in my heart. “I don’t know… things moving, things changing…”
He had chuckled, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his hand. “You’re just tired, darling. It’s been a stressful few weeks.”
But I wasn’t tired. I was terrified.
Now, as I looked at Lucas, his eyes wide with conviction, I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Something was happening in this house, something I couldn’t explain.
“Lucas,” I said, my voice gentle, “can you tell me more about your mom? What does she look like?”
He tilted his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “She’s very pretty,” he said. “She has long hair, like you. And she wears a white dress.”
My blood ran cold. The description matched the woman in the photograph, the woman whose presence seemed to linger in every corner of this house.
“And what does she say to you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Lucas looked at me, his eyes filled with a chilling seriousness. “She says she’s not happy,” he whispered. “She says you’re trying to take her place.”
A wave of fear washed over me, so intense it almost brought me to my knees. I looked around the room, the familiar furniture suddenly seeming menacing, the shadows deepening in the corners. I felt a presence, a cold, unseen gaze fixed upon me.
I had married a widower, a man I loved deeply, a man who had welcomed me into his life and his home. But I had also married into a house haunted by the past, a house where the presence of his late wife lingered, a house where I was not welcome.
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