A surprising announcement made by Johnny Gaudreau’s widow at his memorial service has shocked many people online.
Johnny Gaudreau, a 31-year-old ice hockey player for the Columbus Blue Jackets, passed away recently. His memorial service was held on Monday, September 9, where his widow, Meredith Gaudreau, gave a touching eulogy.
In her speech, Meredith revealed that she is pregnant. This news has added a new layer of emotion to the already heart-wrenching event.
During her eulogy, Meredith Gaudreau talked about how much she treasures the six months she had with her late husband, Johnny Gaudreau, and their time together as a family. She highlighted one special week that stood out, saying, “There’s specifically one week that I will cherish forever — it will be my favorite week of my life out of those six months.”
Meredith then shared some surprising news: “We’re actually a family of five. I’m in my ninth week of pregnancy with our third baby.” She explained that the pregnancy was a “total surprise” and added, “John was beaming and so excited. His reaction was just immediately kissing me and hugging me.”
Meredith and Johnny Gaudreau also have a daughter, Noa Harper Gaudreau, born on September 30, 2022, and a son, Johnny Edward Gaudreau, who was born on February 22, 2024.
Meredith said, “It doesn’t even sound possible, but I see it as the ultimate blessing. How lucky am I to be the mother of John’s three babies? Our last one is such a special blessing, even in these difficult times.” She also told her kids how loved they were and continue to be by their late dad.

Upon hearing about Meredith’s pregnancy, people online expressed their sadness and offered condolences. One Facebook user commented, “This is heartbreaking ,” while another added, “So very sad. Condolences to all concerned.”
A netizen added, “So so tragic.” Another person wrote, “What a complete tragedy . All because one guy couldn’t wait to get home to get drunk. Hope he never drives again,” referring to the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Johnny and Matthew’s deaths.
The tragic accident occurred on August 29, the night before Katie Gaudreau’s wedding. Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau were riding their bikes in Oldmans Township, New Jersey, when they were hit from behind by a suspected drunk driver. The driver, 43-year-old Sean M. Higgins, struck the brothers at 8 p.m., and both Johnny, who had played 10 seasons in the NHL, and Matthew were pronounced dead at the scene.

Sean M. Higgins faces serious charges following the tragic accident. He is charged with two counts of death by auto and reckless driving. He also faces additional charges for consuming alcohol in a motor vehicle and possessing an open container. Although his blood-alcohol level hasn’t been released yet, the criminal complaint notes that Sean failed a field sobriety test. He is currently being held in a Salem County jail.
When news of Johnny and Matthew’s passing became public, Johnny’s hockey team released a heartfelt statement on social media. They expressed their deep sadness over the tragedy and highlighted how much Johnny was loved and admired. The team praised Johnny’s talent and his impact on the team, reflecting on the profound loss felt by everyone who knew him.
The Columbus Blue Jackets shared a tribute to Johnny, saying, “Johnny played the game with great joy and a genuine love for hockey. From Boston College to the Calgary Flames, Team USA, and the Blue Jackets, he brought excitement to every team he played for. He thrilled fans in a way only Johnny Hockey could.”
The Columbus Blue Jackets also sent their heartfelt condolences to Johnny’s wife, parents, children, friends, and all his loved ones. They emphasized that even though Johnny’s life was tragically cut short, the remarkable impact he made on his community and his career would be remembered and cherished forever.
Amid the outpouring of support from coaches and sports stars like NBA superstar LeBron James, who sent prayers to Gaudreau’s family, Meredith also shared a touching wedding anniversary post on Instagram on September 4.













As the Gaudreau family navigates through their immense grief, we extend our deepest condolences and heartfelt prayers to them. Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau may no longer be with us, but their memory will forever remain in our hearts. Rest in peace.
My husband was determined to poison the raccoons that kept invading our backyard, but what they pulled from our trash left me completely shocked

My husband set poison traps for the raccoons that raided our backyard, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree. One night, they pulled something from the trash and I was curious. What I saw in the moonlight left me breathless and in tears.
“No, Kyle, please don’t hurt the poor thing!” The words tore from my throat as I watched my husband hurl a stone at a pregnant raccoon waddling across our backyard. The rock missed, thank God. And the animal scurried away, her movements clumsy with the weight of her unborn babies.
Kyle turned to me, his jaw set and knuckles white around another rock. “They’re pests, Josie. The sooner you understand that, the better.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop shaking. After fifteen years of marriage, you’d think I’d be used to his outbursts by now. But every time, it felt like a punch to the gut.
“They’re living creatures, Kyle. They’re just trying to survive.”
He scoffed, tossing the second rock between his hands. “Yeah, well, they can survive somewhere else. I’m sick of coming home to a war zone every day.”
“It’s hardly a war zone. It’s just some scattered trash.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start with me, Josie. Not today.”
The raccoon problem, as Kyle called it, had started last spring. We’d wake up to find our trash cans knocked over and contents strewn across the lawn.
Once, they even climbed onto our deck and raided the leftover barbecue from my birthday party. I didn’t mind much. They were just hungry, after all.
But Kyle took it personally like the animals were deliberately trying to provoke him.
“I’m telling you, we need better locks for the cans,” I suggested one morning as Kyle angrily watched me scoop up the scattered garbage. “Maybe some chicken wire around the garden too. My sister Jane says that worked for them.”
“I don’t care what your sister says. What we need is to get rid of them. Permanently.”
I remembered when we first met, how his spontaneity had seemed charming. Now, at forty, that impulsiveness had morphed into an iron-fisted need to control everything, including me.
“Kyle, please. Can’t we try the peaceful way first?”
He jabbed a finger at me. “You always do this, Josie. Always trying to make everything complicated when there’s a simple solution right in front of us.”
“Simple doesn’t always mean right.”
He slammed the broom against the side of the house. “What was that?”
I flinched. “Nothing. I’ll look into better trash cans today.”
That weekend, I found Kyle in the garage, assembling something metallic.
“What’s that?” I asked, though I already knew. Animal traps.
He didn’t look up. “Insurance. These smart traps will catch anything that comes near our trash.”
“Kyle, please. They could hurt them.”
He slammed down his screwdriver. “That’s the point! I’m so sick of you defending these disease-carrying vermin. You act like they’re some kind of pets.”
“They’re not pets, but they don’t deserve to suffer. Maybe if we just—”
“Maybe if we just what, Josie? Let them take over? Build them a guest house while we’re at it? I’ve had it with your bleeding heart routine.”
I felt tears welling up but forced them back. “Why does everything have to be solved with violence? They’re just hungry animals, Kyle.”
He stood up, his face red. “You want to know what I think? I think you care more about these pests than our home. Than me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? Every time I try to solve a problem, you fight me. The raccoons, the neighbor’s dog that keeps barking all night, even that group of teens that hangs out by our fence.”
“Those are all living beings, Kyle. Not problems to be ‘solved.’”
“This is my house!” he yelled, making me jump. “I work every day to pay for it, to keep it nice, and I’m not going to let some animals destroy it while my stupid wife takes their side!”
When the raccoons started showing up again this spring, Kyle completely lost it.
That evening, I was folding laundry when he stormed in, waving a piece of paper and grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“You’ll never guess what I found at the hardware store. Industrial-grade pest control. Guaranteed to solve our little problem.”
I took the paper. It was a receipt for animal traps and some kind of poison. My hands started trembling.
“Kyle, you can’t be serious. That stuff could kill them!”
He snatched the receipt back. “That’s the point, Josie. God, sometimes I think you’re being dense on purpose.”
“But what if neighborhood cats get into it? Or someone’s dog? We could get in trouble.”
Kyle’s face darkened. “I’ve made up my mind. The raccoons are gone by the end of the week, one way or another.”
I spent that night tossing and turning, my mind racing. When did the man I married become someone who could so casually talk about killing innocent creatures?
I thought about calling Jane, but I already knew what she’d say. She’d never liked Kyle and always said there was something off about him. Maybe I should have listened.
The breaking point came on a quiet Tuesday night two days later. I was reading in bed when I heard rustling outside. Peering through the window, I saw one of the trash cans had been knocked over again.
I slipped on my robe and grabbed a flashlight. As I approached the mess, something caught my eye. It was a black garbage bag, partially open, with something moving inside.
My hands trembled as I reached for it. “Oh no. No, no, no…”
Inside were three tiny raccoon babies, barely old enough to open their eyes. They were squirming weakly.
“Kyle!” I screamed, cradling the bag close. “Kyle, get out here right now!”
He appeared on the porch, looking annoyed. “What are you yelling about? It’s the middle of the night, you crazy woman!”
“Did you do this?” I held up the bag. “Did you throw away baby animals like they were garbage?”
He shrugged. “They’re pests. I’m handling it.”
“Handling it? They’ll die!”
“That’s the point, Josie. Jesus, why are you so naive? They’re just raccoons!”
“Just raccoons? They’re babies, Kyle! Living, breathing creatures that feel pain and fear. How would you feel if someone threw you away to die?”
He laughed, a cold sound that made me shiver. “Now you’re comparing me to a raccoon? How dare you, Josie?”
“I’m comparing you to someone with empathy, and you’re coming up short.”
Kyle stepped closer, his voice a chilling growl that made my blood run cold. “You know what your problem is? You’re soft. Always have been. The world isn’t some fairy tale where we all just get along. Sometimes you have to be tough.”
“Tough? There’s nothing tough about hurting something weaker than you. That’s just cruel.”
I looked at him and wondered how I’d never seen the cruelty that had always been there.
The next morning, I called every wildlife rescue in the area until I found one that could help. A kind woman named Marla showed me how to feed the raccoon kits with a tiny bottle.
“You’re doing great,” she assured me, watching as I cradled the smallest one. “They’re lucky you found them when you did.”
As I watched the kit suckle eagerly, tears rolled down my cheeks. “I just don’t understand how someone could be so cruel.”
Marla squeezed my shoulder. “Sometimes the animals we save end up saving us too.”
That evening, I found Kyle’s journal and a detailed plan for dealing with the “raccoon infestation.” It included poison locations, trap placements, and even a schedule. The methodical cruelty of it made me sick.
When Jane arrived, she saw the journal in my hands.
“Still think I’m overreacting?” I asked, showing her the pages.
She shook her head. “Josie, this isn’t about raccoons anymore. Maybe it never was.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I think I’ve always known.”
The divorce papers were served a week later. Kyle didn’t seem surprised, just angry. As always.
“You’re really throwing me out over some pests?” he spat as he packed his things into boxes.
I stood my ground in the doorway of what was now my house alone. “No, Kyle. I’m ending this because of who you’ve become. Who you’ve always been, maybe, and I just didn’t want to see it.”
Days turned into weeks. The raccoon kits grew stronger.
The smallest one was shy and always hid behind his siblings. The middle one was curious about everything. And the biggest was protective, always watching out for the others.
Marla helped me release them back into the wild when they were ready. As we watched them toddle toward the treeline, I saw movement in the bushes. There, watching us, was their mother.
“Look,” Marla whispered. “She came back for them.”
The mother raccoon chittered softly, and her babies ran to her. Before disappearing into the forest, she turned and looked right at me. In that instance, I felt a connection to something larger than myself. Compassion.
“You know,” Marla said, “there’s an opening at the rescue center if you’re interested. We could use someone with your kindness.”
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in years. “I’d like that.”
“You know, Josie, you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. They’re like a mirror that reflects our true selves.”
Looking back, I realized the raccoons hadn’t just been victims of Kyle’s cruelty. They’d been my wake-up call. Sometimes it takes seeing someone else’s vulnerability to recognize your own.
As the raccoons disappeared into the trees, I took a deep breath and felt ready for a fresh start. I knew I deserved better, and that someday, I’d find the right person who saw the world with the same compassion I did.
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