Original Post – The Funeral Fiasco
I never thought I’d be writing a saga about my life on Reddit, but here I am. Buckle up, because this has been the wildest few weeks of my life. I’m a 36-year-old woman who just lost my husband, “Richard,” who was 70. We’d been married for five wonderful years. He was my best friend, my partner in everything, and yes, he was much older than me. For context, Richard had three adult daughters from his first marriage: Evelyn (45F), Dana (42F), and Colleen (38F) – all older than me or at least my age. From the day I met them, they’ve called me every name in the book: “gold-digger,” “trophy wife,” you name it. I’ve always tried to ignore it because I loved their father deeply and believed in showing respect. But after Richard’s passing, their nastiness has ramped up to a whole new level.
First, some background: Richard was a widower when we met (his first wife, the girls’ mom, passed away 10 years ago). I think the daughters never really processed that loss, and when he found happiness with me, they saw it as a betrayal or a threat. They were cold to me from the start. I had hoped over time they’d see I truly cared for their dad, but instead they’ve only grown more hostile. For years, I bit my tongue and tried to kill them with kindness – I really did. I remembered birthdays, tried to involve them in holiday plans, offered to have girl’s days out, all of it. It was mostly in vain. They would either snub my invitations or show up and then ignore me or make snide comments. Richard saw some of this, and it hurt him, but he always hoped they’d come around.
When Richard became ill last year (he had a heart condition), I became his full-time caregiver. It was a tough time; I was watching the love of my life fade away. The girls visited once or twice individually during his illness, but mostly they were “too busy.” Evelyn (the oldest) lives in the same city as us, yet she rarely stopped by. Dana and Colleen live out of state and flew in maybe one time each when he was in the hospital. Most of our support came from a few of Richard’s close friends and one kind neighbor – not his own kids. I never held that against them (people cope with a parent’s illness differently), but it did hurt Richard. I think he finally started seeing how little effort they made. He didn’t say much to them about it, at least not that I knew, but I could tell he was disappointed.
Fast forward to a month ago: Richard passed away. I was devastated. Even writing that out now is… I have no words. I miss him so much. Despite all the drama I’m about to share, I’m still in mourning. But I barely had time to grieve because the very day after he died, the entitlement from his daughters went into overdrive.
It started even before the funeral. While I was still numb and organizing a memorial service, Evelyn called me, not to offer condolences, but to immediately start asking about the will: “So, did Dad finally update his will after marrying you?” (I could practically hear the sneer through the phone). I was taken aback and told her it wasn’t the time to discuss that, that we should focus on the funeral. She let out a sarcastic “Sure, of course. We’ll talk after then.” That was a red flag of what was coming.
The funeral itself was… well, a fiasco. Picture this: I’m at the service, greeting people, tears in my eyes, trying to hold it together while saying goodbye to my husband. The three daughters showed up together, looking like a united front. They barely acknowledged me. In fact, when I went to hug them (as the grieving widow trying to connect), only Colleen, the youngest, gave a half-hearted pat. Evelyn actually recoiled like I had no right to touch her. That stung, but I swallowed my pride for Richard’s sake.
During the service, I gave a eulogy. It was the hardest speech of my life, but I wanted to honor Richard. I talked about what a loving, generous, hilarious man he was. I mentioned how he made me feel truly cherished. I also gently acknowledged his first wife (their mom) and how I hoped she and Richard were reunited and at peace. I was trying to be respectful and inclusive. Well, apparently that wasn’t good enough for his daughters. I saw them whispering and rolling their eyes at each other during my eulogy. I can only imagine the commentary.
After the funeral, I hosted a small gathering at our house – the home I shared with Richard for the last five years. It was mostly friends and a few family members. The daughters came too, of course, and that’s when the thin veneer of civility cracked.
As people milled around sharing memories, I overheard Dana (middle daughter) loudly complain that I had “no right” to invite people to “Dad’s house” without consulting them. Mind you, this was my house too – my name is actually on the deed alongside Richard’s. (We bought it together after we married, something the daughters apparently forgot or never knew.) But I didn’t want to cause a scene at the wake, so I just pretended not to hear and kept playing gracious hostess.
Then came the real kicker: I stepped into the kitchen and found Evelyn rifling through the drawers and cabinets. I gently asked if she needed help finding something. She responded with a sugary sweet fake smile, “Oh, just looking for a keepsake, dear. Something of Mom’s.” I realized she was talking about a particular set of antique silverware that had belonged to their mother (Richard’s first wife). Those were passed down to Richard, and he had them in our dining hutch. He’d told me he wanted me to have them – we even used them last Christmas. I told Evelyn as calmly as I could that those were special to me because Richard had given them to me, and I promised to keep them safe.
Evelyn’s eyes went cold. She said, “That silverware belonged to our mother. You have some nerve hoarding it.” I replied that it was given to me by Richard, and if it meant so much to her, we could discuss it later, but this wasn’t the time. She stepped closer and hissed under her breath, “Of course you’d say that. You’ve been taking everything that belonged to Mom – and to us – ever since you trapped our father.”
I was stunned and hurt (and honestly, scared she might actually slap me or something, given her look). I just backed away and said we’d talk later, and I walked out of the kitchen shaking. Apparently, that wasn’t the end of it. I found out later from a friend who was there that after I left the kitchen, Evelyn indeed grabbed the silverware case and walked out with it! By the time I realized, the gathering was over and they were gone. So yeah, she basically stole the family heirloom silverware from my house on the day of her father’s funeral.
I was livid, but I also just didn’t have the energy to fight over forks and spoons on that day. I figured I’d handle it after we all had time to grieve. Little did I know this was only the opening salvo.
The next day, I got a call from Richard’s lawyer to schedule a reading of the will. (Let’s call the lawyer “Mr. Thompson.”) He suggested meeting at his office at the end of the week. I agreed. Well, somehow (I suspect Evelyn again), the daughters got that information before I even had a chance to tell them. Because not an hour after I hung up with the lawyer, I got an angry group text from Evelyn with her sisters copied: “We need to talk about Dad’s estate NOW. No excuses.” I replied that the lawyer had set a will discussion for Friday and we’d go over everything then.
Evelyn shot back with: “I don’t trust you or that so-called lawyer friend of yours. You probably made Dad change everything to cut us out.” (For the record, I have no idea why she thinks the lawyer is my “friend.” He’s just a professional who handled Richard’s estate planning, and I only met him a couple times while Richard was updating documents. But he’s hardly my buddy; he was closer to Richard if anything.)
Dana chimed in on the text thread with: “We deserve to see the will before any formal meeting. It’s our father’s legacy.” Colleen added, “Yeah, we’re family – we have a right to know.”
At this point I was fed up with being polite. I was sitting alone in the home where I nursed my husband through his final days, now being accused of god-knows-what by the very people who barely showed up while he was dying. So I responded: “I have not seen the will myself yet. I am going to the lawyer’s on Friday as requested. You can either wait until then or contact Mr. Thompson directly if you’re so concerned.” I gave them his office number (which they should have had anyway). After that, I silenced my phone for the day.
The days leading up to Friday were nerve-wracking. I knew Richard had a will and I had some idea of what was in it—he’d always promised to make sure I was taken care of. But I wasn’t privy to all the details. Part of me was worried: what if he hadn’t updated things after we married? I mean, he was a procrastinator about paperwork. Or what if the daughters somehow convinced him to sign something when he was ill? My imagination ran wild with worst-case scenarios. I was also furious at how I was being treated by them, but I kept telling myself that soon the legalities would be settled and maybe things would calm down.
By Thursday night, I hadn’t heard more from the daughters (I suspect they contacted the lawyer and he told them to wait for the meeting). But I did get a surprise call from an unknown number. It turned out to be one of Richard’s old friends, a guy named Allan who I knew casually. Allan apologized for the random call, but said he felt he should warn me: apparently, Evelyn had been ranting on her social media that her “gold-digger stepmom” was about to “steal” her inheritance and that she “won’t let that happen.” She basically insinuated I manipulated her dad and probably did something to his will. Allan thought I should be aware in case it turned into public harassment or legal moves. I thanked him profusely and promptly looked at Evelyn’s Facebook (I’m not friends with her, but her posts were public). Oh boy… She had written a long screed that made me out to be some evil seductress who took advantage of an old man. The comments from her friends were full of outrage on her behalf, calling me a “witch” and worse. It was so hurtful I could barely finish reading. But I took screenshots of everything, which would later turn out to be very useful.
I didn’t respond to her post (engaging on social media felt like throwing gasoline on the fire). Instead, I resolved to just wait and see what the will said and let that speak for me. Internally, I was a mess of anxiety and anger. Would the will prove them wrong, or had they been right to worry?
Friday finally came. I went to Mr. Thompson’s office for the will reading, feeling like I was walking into battle. Little did I know, the battle was just beginning…
(To be continued…)
Update 1 – The Will Reading (One Week Later)
Hello again, Reddit. I didn’t expect to be back with an update so soon, but the will reading was today and wow, do I have a lot to unpack. I’m still processing all of it, and I’m pretty sure my blood pressure has been through the roof for hours. Grab a snack, because this turned into a day of drama and petty revenge I never saw coming.
Firstly, thank you to everyone who reached out after my original post. (I’m blown away by the support – I even saw someone cross-posted it to r/BestofRedditorUpdates, hi!). I haven’t been able to reply to many comments because of everything going on, but I did read them and appreciate the kindness and advice. A few people asked if Richard had a prenup when we married, given the age gap. The answer is no – he and I discussed it, but he ultimately felt it wasn’t necessary. He said he trusted me completely and wanted our marriage to be “no different than if we were the same age.” I know some folks will side-eye that, but it’s what he wanted. In any case, he certainly did have a will, and he kept it updated. And thank God for that.
So, the will reading: I arrived at Mr. Thompson’s office at 10 AM, heart pounding. To my surprise (or maybe not), all three stepdaughters were already there in the conference room, along with a younger man I didn’t recognize at first. Turns out he’s a lawyer they hired (let’s call him “Bradley”) to represent them or observe or whatever. So they showed up with their own lawyer to their father’s will reading – clearly expecting a fight. I gave them a tight smile and a hello, which they did not return. Evelyn was sitting dead center, arms crossed, looking smug and angry at the same time (quite a trick). Dana looked anxious, tapping her foot, and Colleen just avoided eye contact.
Mr. Thompson is a very seasoned estate attorney – a silver-haired gentleman in his 60s who knew Richard for years. He didn’t seem fazed by the extra lawyer in the room. He greeted us all calmly and explained how the will reading would go. He had copies for everyone and a prepared statement from Richard to read aloud. Evelyn immediately interrupted to ask, “Is this the latest will? When was it last updated?” Her tone was accusatory, hinting that perhaps I had a hand in last-minute changes. Mr. Thompson gave a thin smile and said, “It was last updated two years ago, and Richard was of sound mind and health, if that’s what you’re asking. I oversaw the signing with independent witnesses.” (Bless this man, he knew exactly what she was implying and shut it down professionally.)
With that, he began reading the will. I won’t write out every single line (it was a lot of legalese), but here are the key points:
- Funeral Wishes: Richard had wanted a simple funeral and had pre-paid his plot and arrangements. (This, thankfully, we had already handled as he wanted.)
- Debts & Expenses: All outstanding debts and funeral costs to be paid from the estate first.
- Specific Bequests: This is where things got interesting. Richard left some individual gifts to each daughter:
- To Evelyn, he left the antique family silverware set that had originally belonged to his mother (the one Evelyn had already swiped at the funeral). He also left her a sealed letter (more on that in a moment).
- To Dana, he left his late wife’s (their mother’s) engagement ring and a sealed letter. (I later found out from Mr. Thompson that Richard specifically wanted Dana to have the ring for her own daughter someday. Note: Dana has a 16-year-old daughter, Richard’s granddaughter.)
- To Colleen, he left a rare book collection that she and her father used to read together when she was young, plus a sealed letter.
- To each of his grandchildren (there are three in total: one for each daughter), he left $50,000 in a trust fund for their education, to be managed by Mr. Thompson (as trustee) until the kids turn 25.
- Residue of the Estate: This means whatever is left – and that turned out to be basically the house, Richard’s investments/savings, his car, and everything else of value. In the will, he left 100% of the residue to me, his wife.
Wow. Even though Richard had told me he would take care of me, hearing that read out made me choke up. It was far more generous than I expected. (I later learned he’d put a lot of assets in both our names over the years, so the estate was actually a bit smaller than it looked on paper because some things were already technically mine. But still.)
The moment Mr. Thompson finished announcing that I get the residue, all hell broke loose in that conference room.
Evelyn practically jumped out of her chair. “WHAT? That’s impossible! There’s no way Dad would do that!” she shouted. Her lawyer, Bradley, put a hand on her arm to try to calm her, but she yanked away. “He was manipulated! This is her doing!” she spat, jabbing a finger in my direction.
I was literally too stunned to speak for a second – not stunned at the will (I mean, I was relieved at that), but at how fast Evelyn lost it. Mr. Thompson raised his voice a little over the chaos and said, “I will ask everyone to remain calm and let me finish. There are additional provisions.”
Evelyn was still huffing and muttering, but she sat down. Dana looked shell-shocked and on the verge of tears. Colleen was wide-eyed and silent. I was shaking, trying to appear composed.
Mr. Thompson then pointed out something very important: a no-contest clause. In simpler terms, the will explicitly stated that if any beneficiary challenged it in court, that person would forfeit their entire inheritance, and it would be redistributed according to an alternate clause. (In this case, anything they would have gotten would go into a charitable trust fund for heart disease research – which was Richard’s favorite charity). Mr. Thompson read that part slowly, looking pointedly at Evelyn’s lawyer as if to say “read my lips.”
I have to admit, I stole a glance at the stepdaughters at that moment. Evelyn’s face went from red to a sort of ashen gray. Dana and Colleen exchanged nervous glances. Their lawyer, Bradley, looked a bit surprised too – maybe they hadn’t told him much, or he didn’t expect the no-contest clause to be so firm. I could practically see the gears turning in Evelyn’s mind: if she contests, she could end up with nothing, and even lose the silverware and trust for her son.
Speaking of the silverware – oh man. When Mr. Thompson read the bequest about the antique silverware going to Evelyn, I couldn’t help myself. I let out the tiniest snort-laugh (nervous reaction). Evelyn noticed and shot me a death glare. She obviously realized that taking it from my house prematurely wasn’t a good look. And now legally it was listed as part of her inheritance anyway, not something she heroically “rescued” from me like she’s probably been telling her sisters. The irony gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction.
Anyway, back to the will. After the main points were read, Mr. Thompson said those magic words: “Richard also left a personal message to be shared with you all.” My heart skipped. He took out a sheet of paper (apparently Richard had written a letter to be read aloud) and asked, “Would you like me to read it?”
I was like yes please, but I looked at the daughters. Evelyn snapped, “Go ahead.” So he read Richard’s posthumous letter, and let me tell you, I will never forget what was in it:
It started very lovingly. Richard wrote about how he cherished all three of his daughters, remembering them as little girls playing in the garden, how proud he was of certain accomplishments of theirs, etc. (I saw a couple teary eyes at these sweet recollections – even Evelyn blinked rapidly like it got to her a bit.) Then he addressed the elephant in the room. I’m paraphrasing, but the gist was:
“I understand that my marriage to [my name] may have been hard for you to accept. I want you to know I married her not because I was lonely or conned, but because I found someone who brought light back into my life after years of darkness. I wish you could have seen beyond your preconceptions and gotten to know the wonderful person she is. If you’re hearing this, it means I’m gone, and I hope you will let go of any resentment and treat her with the kindness she deserves.”
He went on to say that he had provided for each of them as much as he thought wise. He acknowledged that they might have expected more, but he explicitly said, “I have given each of you a portion that I hope you will use to improve your lives and your children’s lives. The rest I leave to my wife, who cared for me devotedly and whom I trust to honor my memory.”
Then came the part that really hit hard: “To my daughters, I want to say this: Life is short. I urge you to focus on the love and family you still have, not on money or resentment. If you find it in your hearts to reconcile with [my name], I believe it would make your mother and me happy. If you choose not to, that is your decision – but it will be my last wish that goes unfulfilled.”
Wow. The room was dead silent when Mr. Thompson finished reading. I was openly crying by the end – it was so heartfelt. Colleen was sobbing quietly too. Dana dabbed her eyes, looking conflicted. Evelyn… well, Evelyn sat rigid, jaw clenched. She was tearing up but clearly fighting it, likely angry that her father had basically called them out (politely) for their attitude.
After that, Mr. Thompson distributed the sealed individual letters to each daughter that Richard had left. These were meant for their eyes only. Evelyn looked like she didn’t even want hers. Dana and Colleen accepted theirs with trembling hands.
Evelyn’s lawyer then asked a few curt questions: “When can my client receive a copy of the will?” (Answer: right after the meeting, Thompson had them ready.) “What about the assets outside the will, like joint accounts?” (Thompson answered those passed directly to me and aren’t part of the estate to divvy up – cue an even nastier look from Evelyn.)
And then the lawyer inquired about the house: “We understand the house was jointly owned, but we need to verify title.” Thompson calmly provided documentation that yes, the house was joint tenancy between Richard and me, so I now own it fully. Evelyn muttered something like “unbelievable” under her breath at that.
Finally, when his questions were done, Mr. Thompson asked if there were any more questions or issues to discuss. That’s when Evelyn spoke up again. She said in a steely voice, “Dad was not in his right mind two years ago. I’m going to contest this.”
Bradley, her lawyer, visibly cringed and quietly said her name, trying to stop her. But she barreled on: “This is all because of her—” (meaning me) “—filling his head with lies. I know my father, and he would never…” She choked up for a second, maybe realizing she was contradicting the very letter we all heard, but then she continued, “He would never abandon his family like this. We won’t accept it.”
At this point, I found my voice. I was done being a quiet spectator. I said, as evenly as I could, “Evelyn, your father made his wishes very clear. I had no part in writing that will, but I will honor it. I think we all should.”
She rounded on me: “Shut up, you snake. You’ve poisoned everything.” Dana gasped, “Evy, stop.” Even Colleen said softly, “Dad wouldn’t want this, Ev.” But Evelyn was on a roll. “No, I’m not gonna stop. This isn’t over. That will is a fraud, and I’m going to prove it.”
Mr. Thompson interjected firmly: “Ms. Evelyn, I advise you to reconsider your tone and your plan here. The no-contest clause—” Evelyn cut him off, “I don’t care! She doesn’t deserve any of this! That money belongs in our family, not with some young harlot who cosied up to an old man!”
Yes, she actually called me a harlot. In 2025. I think Mr. Thompson nearly choked. Her own lawyer looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.
I was shaking with anger and tears at this point. But before I could respond, guess who spoke up? Colleen. The youngest, who had been quiet, finally lost it on her sister. She stood up and said, “Evelyn, enough! Dad chose to marry [my name], and he clearly loved her. You don’t have to like it, but you need to accept it. We all heard what he said.”
Evelyn started to snap back, but Colleen raised her voice over her: “You know what, I’m as shocked as you are that he didn’t leave more to us. But maybe we should be asking ourselves why. Did we even call him on his birthday last year? Did we bother to come see him when he was sick? No! It was easier to just assume she was turning him against us. Maybe we did that ourselves.”
I was utterly floored. So was everyone else. Dana burst into tears and ran out of the room with her letter clutched in hand. Evelyn just stood there opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, no words coming out for once.
After a very tense pause, Evelyn’s lawyer gently said they should probably leave and “discuss things privately.” Evelyn snapped out of it and marched out, telling him to get the car. Colleen gave me one last look – I couldn’t quite read it, maybe apologetic or embarrassed – and then followed her sisters out.
Just like that, the will reading was over.
I thanked Mr. Thompson profusely for everything. He told me he was fond of Richard and would help me navigate what comes next. As I was about to leave, he mentioned quietly that if any of them attempted to contest, I should let him know immediately – though he doubted Bradley (their lawyer) would advise them to, given the clause and how clear Richard’s intentions were. I nodded, still dazed.
On my way out of the building, I saw that the three sisters were in the parking lot, engaged in what looked like a heated argument amongst themselves. I didn’t want to interact, so I hurried to my car and slipped away unnoticed.
I got home and finally exhaled. It felt like I’d been holding my breath for hours. I’m grateful the will was so explicit; I feel vindicated that Richard’s choices are out in the open, showing I wasn’t some scheming witch. But I’m also emotionally exhausted, and if I’m honest, a part of me is heartbroken for Richard. He would have hated that scene at the lawyer’s office.
Not even two hours after I got home, the texts began. Long story short: Evelyn is still on the warpath. She sent me a text basically saying she’ll never forgive me and that I “haven’t heard the last of this.” Dana sent a separate, more timid message apologizing for the scene but also saying she’s “unsure how to feel” and hopes I’ll give them some time to adjust. Colleen hasn’t contacted me directly, but I heard from a mutual friend that she went straight home and is refusing to talk to Evelyn and Dana for now. Seems like there’s a rift among the three of them.
I haven’t replied to any of them yet. I’m not sure what to say or do. I’m just trying to recover from today’s events. Legally, I think I’m in a strong position thanks to Richard’s planning, but emotionally… this is all still so raw.
One thing’s certain: based on Evelyn’s “this isn’t over” threat, I doubt they’re going to just accept the will and move on. I’ll update again when I see what they do next. For now, I’m going to make a cup of tea, cuddle the old sweater of Richard’s I kept, and try to sleep for the first time in a week with some sense of security.
(End of Update 1. More to come…)
Update 2 – Lines in the Sand (2 Weeks Later)
It’s been about two weeks since the will reading, and things haven’t exactly quieted down. I wanted to give everyone an update on the aftermath. There’s been a lot of behind-the-scenes maneuvering by the stepdaughters, some surprising personal moments, and yes – more drama. Buckle up (again).
After my last update, I took a few days to myself. I needed to grieve and decompress from the stress. During that time, I barely responded to any of the daughters’ messages. Evelyn kept true to her word that I “hadn’t heard the last of this.” She sent me a flurry of texts ranging from begging (yes, actually begging me to “be fair and split the money”) to threatening (she claimed she’d sue me for “coercing a dying man” and even hinted she might go to the media to “expose” me). I didn’t take the bait on any of those. I forwarded the nastier ones to Mr. Thompson, who told me to save everything as evidence in case we needed a restraining order or to defend against an eventual lawsuit.
Dana’s communications were milder. After her initial apology text, she went quiet for a bit. Then she reached out asking if we could talk “when I was ready.” She said she was feeling a lot of remorse after reading her letter from her father and wanted to discuss a few things. I wasn’t sure if meeting her was a good idea given everything, but I also didn’t sense malice from her, just confusion and maybe guilt. I told her I’d think about it.
Colleen, on the other hand, reached out in a completely different manner. She actually showed up at my door one afternoon unannounced. To my shame, my first reaction on seeing her through the peephole was panic – I thought maybe she was there to cause trouble. But when I opened the door, I saw she’d been crying. She asked, “Can we talk? Please?”
I invited her in, we sat at the kitchen table, and for a good minute we just sat there in awkward silence. Then she broke down sobbing, saying “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over. I honestly didn’t know what to do except let her cry and gently pat her back. When she calmed a bit, she started apologizing more coherently: for not standing up to her sisters sooner, for the awful things they said to me, for taking her father for granted. It was a wave of remorse pouring out of her. I was caught completely off-guard.
Once she got the apologies out, we talked. Like, actually talked – probably for the first time ever. She told me that her sealed letter from her dad had shaken her deeply. I won’t share all of it (it’s hers, after all), but she did share some parts with me. Basically, Richard wrote to Colleen that he was proud of her independence (she’s the only one of the three who built a career on her own, apparently). He reminisced about how, as the baby of the family, she always went along with what her older sisters wanted, and he gently urged her to stand on her own two feet and not be afraid to disagree with them, especially if they were in the wrong. He also wrote that one of his big regrets was that the family became fractured after he remarried, and he hoped she could be a bridge to mend it someday, because he believed she had the gentlest heart of the three.
We were both crying by the time she finished telling me this. Colleen then said, “I realize I’ve been a coward. I let them badmouth you because it was easier than fighting. But I see now how much Dad loved you and how happy you made him. You took care of him… and we didn’t. I’m so, so sorry.”
I honestly felt a lot of emotions at that moment. Relief, because finally one of them understood. Grief, because Richard wasn’t here to see it. And a bit of wariness – was this for real? In my gut, I believed her. Colleen always was the quiet one, and she never personally attacked me the way Evelyn did. She mostly just went along with her sisters.
I told her, “Your dad loved you girls very much. He never wanted things to be like this. I’m not blameless – maybe I should have tried harder to talk to you all – but I loved him truly, and I just wanted to be part of the family.”
We talked for a long while. She admitted that after the will reading, she and Evelyn had a huge fight. Evelyn was furious that Colleen “humiliated” her by calling her out in front of everyone. Colleen basically told Evelyn to go to hell (her words) and that she wouldn’t be part of any plan to contest Dad’s will. Since then, Colleen said she’s barely spoken to her sisters except a few heated texts with Evelyn. She said Dana was wavering, torn between Evelyn’s pressure and her own conscience after their dad’s letter to her (which apparently was a stern but loving talk about not letting bitterness and jealousy guide her life).
Colleen also gave me a heads-up: Evelyn was indeed shopping around for a new attorney to contest the will. (It seems the lawyer who attended the reading with them, Bradley, advised against challenging the will given the no-contest clause and the clear evidence of Richard’s wishes. According to Colleen, he told them it would be an uphill battle he wasn’t eager to take on. So Evelyn basically fired him or stopped using him, I guess.) Now she’s trying to find someone more aggressive to take her case.
I sighed at this news, but I wasn’t shocked. Evelyn’s pride was wounded and she’s money-hungry enough to gamble her own son’s trust fund on a legal fight. Colleen said she told Evelyn point-blank that she won’t risk her own kids’ college money (she has two young children) by joining any contest, and Dana similarly doesn’t want to jeopardize her daughter’s trust. That only enraged Evelyn more, accusing them both of “betraying the family for the gold-digger.” So, as it stands, Evelyn is on a warpath alone, while Dana is on the fence, and Colleen is effectively estranged from her sisters at the moment.
Hearing all this was both encouraging (since a united front against me had splintered) and frightening (because a lone, unhinged Evelyn might be even more unpredictable). I thanked Colleen for telling me. She then surprised me by asking if she could have the book collection her father left her. She seemed almost afraid to ask, as if I’d say no because of everything. Of course, I had no intention of keeping it from her – it was specifically bequeathed to her and, more importantly, it meant a lot to both her and Richard. I had the books boxed up in our study, ready to give her (Mr. Thompson had suggested I prepare the personal bequests for delivery to avoid more conflict later). We retrieved the boxes, and as Colleen was leaving, she gave me a hug. A real, genuine hug. She said, “Thank you… I won’t forget that you showed me kindness even after everything.” I nearly started crying again, but I held it together and just said I hoped this wouldn’t be the last time we talk.
So that was a surprisingly positive development: one of the daughters has broken ranks, and it feels like maybe I’ve gained an ally – or at least lost an enemy. I know Richard would have been so glad to see it.
Now, onto the continuing saga with the others. A few days after that meeting, I got a letter via certified mail – from a law firm. Sure enough, Evelyn had found a new attack dog. The letter stated that they represent Evelyn in a potential will contest, alleging that I exercised “undue influence” over Richard and that he lacked full capacity when making his estate plans. It was full of legal phrasing basically suggesting that if I don’t enter settlement talks, they’ll file a lawsuit to challenge the will.
I immediately forwarded it to Mr. Thompson and got on a call with him. He had also been contacted by that law firm. He told me not to panic – this is unfortunately somewhat common in estates like this. His advice was to not engage directly. If they actually file a case, he and his firm would handle it and he was confident we’d prevail given how thorough Richard had been. He also mentioned that Richard had done something clever two years ago: besides the will, Richard had put the bulk of his financial assets in a living trust with Mr. Thompson as the trustee. I’m the beneficiary of that trust, and it’s separate from the probate estate that the will covers. This was news to me. What it means is, a large chunk of assets (investments, etc.) weren’t even going through the will – they were already set aside to support me according to trust instructions. The will mainly covered the house and personal property and a few specific accounts. This was likely done to further bulletproof against challenges (since trusts are harder to mess with in court). In short: even if, by some insane long shot, Evelyn succeeded in invalidating the will, she still wouldn’t touch the trust. She’d basically be fighting over a smaller pile. That gave me a lot of peace of mind.
In the meantime, the lawyer drama continued. Through Mr. Thompson, I responded to Evelyn’s lawyers formally that we have no intention of settling and that her claims are baseless. We included a copy of the no-contest clause for good measure, reminding them that if she proceeds, she jeopardizes everything she was given (which may not be much, but still). Apparently that didn’t deter them, because I got word a few days later that Evelyn’s lawyer filed the initial paperwork for a will contest in court. Game on, I guess.
I won’t lie, I was really angry when I learned she actually filed. It’s one thing to threaten – a lot of times that’s a bluff. But she went ahead. It felt like such a slap in the face to her father’s memory, not to mention to me. However, I found out something that made me laugh: The basis of her contest, as expected, is “undue influence” – essentially that I coerced or manipulated Richard into leaving me everything. But the evidence her new lawyer is leaning on? The social media posts and comments Evelyn herself made right after Richard’s death. You read that right. The lawyer apparently plans to use Evelyn’s own hearsay Facebook rants (the ones where she painted me as a gold-digger) as evidence, and a few distant relatives’ comments agreeing as “proof” that I must have isolated or duped Richard. It’s flimsy as hell – more like gossip than evidence – and likely won’t hold up in court. Mr. Thompson said as much and was almost amused by their unprofessional approach. Still, it’s aggravating that I now have to even entertain this nonsense legally.
So where does that leave us? Well, as of now:
- Evelyn is pressing forward with the lawsuit. She’s basically on a crusade and not listening to anyone. From what I hear (small town gossip gets around), she’s also having some personal fallout: apparently her husband (oh, did I mention she’s married? with a son, as I noted) is furious about how she’s handling things. He allegedly told a mutual friend that he’s tired of her obsession and that financially they’re in a bind because she was counting on a big inheritance that isn’t coming. Yikes.
- Dana has been keeping her distance from me, but I did agree to meet her this upcoming weekend at a local coffee shop. She said via text that she wants to apologize in person and also pick up her mother’s engagement ring (the one Richard left to her). I suspect she also wants to talk about her situation, maybe find a middle ground. I’m open to hearing her out. I’ll update on how that goes.
- Colleen and I have actually spoken a couple more times on the phone since her visit. It’s been cordial – almost friendly. She told me she’s considering low-contact with Evelyn for the foreseeable future because she can’t deal with the toxicity. I don’t blame her. She also said she and her husband made a decision to put some of their own savings towards a college fund for their kids now, rather than hope for any more from her dad’s estate. She’s not expecting anything else at this point and seems at peace with that. (Side note: Richard did leave $50k trusts for each of her kids, as mentioned, so they’re still better off than before, just that it’s earmarked for the kids and not accessible to her – which she actually appreciates. She said “at least I know it’ll definitely go to their education and not elsewhere.” Imagine that – someone seeing the trust as her father’s act of love, not a slight.)
It’s strange to have one stepdaughter almost as a friend now while the eldest actively hates me and the middle is somewhere in between. But that’s where we are.
I’m gearing up for what could be a legal battle with Evelyn. It could drag on for months or years, who knows. And honestly, I’m tired. But I have right (and truth) on my side, not to mention Richard’s own ironclad words and documents.
Oh! One more thing: Colleen gave me a valuable warning before she left my house that day. She said, “Please be careful. Evelyn is saying stuff like, ‘If I can’t get what I want through the courts, I have other ways.’ I don’t know what she means but… just watch out.”
So, yeah. I’ve taken that to heart. I actually installed a security camera system around the house last week (inside and outside). Maybe that’s overkill, but it gives me some peace of mind. I also changed the locks, just in case Evelyn had a spare key somehow (paranoia, maybe, but better safe than sorry). I don’t know if she’d actually try something crazy, but I wouldn’t put it past her to snoop around or confront me in person given her unhinged anger right now.
This is already long, so I’ll stop here. I’ll post another update after meeting with Dana and any new developments – and certainly if the “other ways” Evelyn hinted at materialize. Part of me hopes she cools off, but the way she’s been… I’m not optimistic.
Stay tuned, and again thank you for all the supportive comments and advice. It’s been a sanity-saver for me.
(End of Update 2. Cliffhanger: what will Evelyn do next? I have a feeling it’s going to be wild…)
Update 3 – Coffee Date & Late-Night Intruder (1 Month Later)
It’s been about a month since my last update. Sorry for the delay, but things have been eventful, and I wanted to gather my thoughts (and evidence) before coming back here. A lot has happened: I met with Dana, and let’s just say that conversation took some turns. And then, most dramatically, something happened at my house a little over a week ago that I’m still pretty shaken up about. I’ll start with the Dana meeting and build up to the…intruder.
As I mentioned, I agreed to meet Dana for coffee to talk and to give her the engagement ring that Richard left her. I was extremely nervous heading into that meeting – Dana and I have always had a strange dynamic. She’s not as overtly hostile as Evelyn, but she’s made plenty of snide remarks in the past. I wasn’t sure if I’d be walking into an apology, an ambush, or some weird combination of both.
We met at a small cafe in town on a Saturday morning. I got there first and found a quiet corner table. When Dana walked in, I waved and she actually smiled a little. That was a good start, I thought. She sat down and for a moment neither of us knew how to begin. Finally, she thanked me for agreeing to meet and for “taking care of Dad’s ring” for her. I handed over the ring box (I had cleaned and polished the ring – it’s a beautiful vintage piece). She opened it and I could swear I saw genuine emotion on her face for the first time in ages. She whispered, “I remember when Dad gave this to Mom… thank you for keeping it safe.” I told her of course, it was always meant for her eventually.
With that icebreaker, we eased into a real conversation. It was… surprisingly civil. She started by saying she’s sorry for the way things escalated. That she let Evelyn’s anger consume her too, and that reading their dad’s letter made her take a hard look at herself. Apparently, Richard wrote some pretty blunt truths in her letter. He gently called her out for always competing with her sisters and others, and for letting bitterness over her parents’ divorce and her mom’s death turn into misplaced resentment. (Side note: I didn’t even know until then that Dana harbored anger over her parents’ divorce – Richard and his first wife split just a couple years before the first wife died, and I guess Dana was a teenager then and blamed Richard for some of it. A lot of baggage I never knew.)
Dana admitted she’d been distant with her father even before I came into the picture, and that maybe I became a convenient target to blame for the family rifts that were already there. I really appreciated her saying that. I could tell it wasn’t easy for her to own up to.
I also apologized – I said I was sorry for any times I might have stepped on toes unknowingly, like taking over holiday planning or whatever. I explained I only ever wanted to help, not to replace their mom or steal their dad’s attention (he had plenty of love to go around, after all). We talked about misunderstandings and how grief and jealousy can really twist things. It was honestly a very raw and honest chat.
One interesting (and somewhat awkward) part: Dana carefully brought up the money issue. She said, “I’ll be honest, it was a shock that Dad left almost everything to you. I always assumed we’d get a larger inheritance… Not that it’s an excuse for how we acted.” She then admitted something that made me actually feel a pang of sympathy: A few years ago, Dana and her husband bought a new house and took on a large mortgage. They stretched their budget, partly because she assumed when her dad eventually passed, she’d get a chunk to pay off debt or at least cushion things. It wasn’t something her father ever told her explicitly, but it was an assumption she realizes now was entitled and risky. “I shouldn’t have counted on money that wasn’t mine,” she said, “but Evelyn always said Dad would ‘do right by us’ and… I don’t know, I guess I believed it.”
I nodded, appreciating her honesty. I didn’t make any promises or offers (legally, I have to be careful especially during the contest, and also, I’m still cautious). But I did say I’m sorry she’s in a tough spot, and that I believed Richard wanted to help all his family in different ways. I gently reminded her that he did set up those trusts for the grandkids, which is a big deal. She acknowledged that and said she was grateful for that part, at least her daughter’s education is secure.
Then she asked the million-dollar question (figuratively): “Do you think there’s any way we could reach a compromise with Evelyn? Like, outside of court? This is so messy.”
I took a deep breath. I told her honestly, “I don’t think Evelyn wants compromise. I think she wants a fight, or total surrender. And I won’t dishonor your dad’s clear wishes just to buy her off.” I added that even if I wanted to compromise, the no-contest clause and trust structure meant my hands were kind of tied from just handing over estate assets. (Mr. Thompson had advised me that distributing estate assets outside of the will while a contest is pending could be a bad idea legally – it can be seen as conceding to a claim of the contest, etc.) Dana looked sad but nodded that she understood.
She then said she hasn’t joined Evelyn’s suit and doesn’t plan to – she’s actually terrified that if she did and lost, her daughter’s $50k trust would vanish (we weren’t sure if the no-contest clause technically covers the grandkids’ trusts, but she’s not willing to risk it). Evelyn apparently has been pressuring her non-stop, claiming that I might use up “their mother’s money” on lawyers and then there’d be nothing left anyway. (For the record, the estate is separate from the trust paying for my legal fees, and I’m pretty sure Evelyn doesn’t grasp that detail. Richard really played 4D chess.)
In the end, Dana and I parted on as good of terms as one could hope, given everything. She thanked me again for meeting and said she hoped once the legal dust settles, maybe we can all find a more peaceful dynamic. I told her I hoped so too. I could see flashes of the kind person she probably is without Evelyn’s influence. We shall see.
Now, onto the really crazy part of this update. Remember how Colleen warned me that Evelyn said she had “other ways” if the court route didn’t work out? Well… either Evelyn got tired of waiting for the court battle to play out, or she wanted to take matters into her own hands regardless. Because last week, I caught someone trying to break into my house – and that someone was very clearly Evelyn.
Here’s how it went down: It was a little over a week ago, late at night – around 2 AM. I was actually in a deep sleep for once (thanks to some melatonin and sheer exhaustion). Suddenly, I wake up to my phone buzzing like crazy with notifications. I groggily look at it, and it’s the security app linked to my new cameras. It’s detecting movement in my backyard. Then, as I’m unlocking the phone, it starts blaring the siren alert (I had set an alarm trigger for the backdoor camera if forced entry was detected).
I jump out of bed, heart pounding, adrenaline on full blast. Through the app’s live feed, I see that my back patio door (which leads into the kitchen) is open and the camera is showing movement inside my kitchen. My first thought: oh my god, someone’s in the house. For a split second I actually feared it could be some random burglar, but a split second later I saw a figure on the camera and recognized the outline immediately – the height, the build… and when she passed by the kitchen light, there was no mistaking that it was Evelyn creeping through my house.
I felt a mix of terror and rage. She must have forced the patio door (later I found out she had pried the lock somehow, since obviously her keys wouldn’t work after I changed the locks). Thank goodness I had the alarm and cameras, or who knows how far she’d have gotten in.
I grabbed the baseball bat I keep in the bedroom (I was too scared to confront her directly with just that, but it made me feel less helpless). Then I locked my bedroom door and from my cell phone dialed 911, whispering to the dispatcher that someone had broken into my home. The alarm siren was still wailing from the camera system, so I figured she knew she’d tripped something. Sure enough, on the camera feed I could see her realize the noise and lights were on. She looked startled and started heading back toward the patio door to leave.
But at that point, the police (bless our small town quick response) were already pulling up out front, because the security system had automatically notified them when the alarm went off. I could see blue and red lights flashing outside. I stayed on the phone with 911 until I heard the officers yelling commands.
It was chaos for a few minutes. From my window I could see two officers with flashlights in my yard. I heard one shout, “Ma’am, don’t move!” Then muffled shouting from Evelyn – I couldn’t make out her words clearly, something like “I’m not stealing, this is my father’s house!” (Oh, the irony of her calling it her father’s house while breaking in.)
I stayed locked in my room until an officer came to the bedroom door and cleared me to come out. When I stepped outside, what a scene: Evelyn was actually in handcuffs, standing in my living room with two cops. She looked disheveled and furious, her eyes wild when she saw me. She immediately started yelling at me: “This is MY house! You witch, you called the cops on me?!” The officer sternly told her to be quiet. He asked me if I knew this woman. I said yes, that’s my stepdaughter, and that I had NOT given her any permission to be here.
Evelyn screamed, “Liar! This house is family property! She’s got no right—” and on and on. One of the cops pulled her toward the door as she kept yelling that she had a right to retrieve “family heirlooms.” (What heirlooms, I have no clue – I suspect she was after something to help her case, or maybe just snooping for anything that she could spin into “evidence” of me being awful. Or she was simply out of her mind with anger. Could be all of the above.)
They put her in the squad car. Another officer stayed to take my statement. I was shaking like a leaf through all this. I told him I was terrified, that she’s been harassing me, and I truly thought she might harm me. (I mean, if someone’s bold enough to break into your home at 2 AM, who knows what they’re capable of?) The officer was very kind and said I did the right thing calling them. He asked if I wanted to press charges for trespassing and breaking & entering. I think my initial answer was a shaky, “I… I’m not sure.” He then gently pointed out that given the situation – a known person with a potential motive – it might be wise to at least have an official record of this, in case it escalates further or to support any restraining order I might need.
I agreed and said yes, I would press charges. Not out of malice (well, I was pretty mad too), but out of self-preservation. This was beyond a family squabble – it was a crime. She spent the night in jail (her husband had to come bail her out in the morning, as I later learned).
I also immediately called Mr. Thompson even though it was like 3 AM. I left a voicemail explaining what happened. First thing that morning, he called back and said, “Well, that is… eventful. This incident will certainly be pertinent to the ongoing case.” Understatement of the year, Mr. Thompson!
So yeah, Evelyn now has an arrest record (likely just a misdemeanor, but still). And funnily enough (or not so funny), she basically proved that I do indeed need protection from her, undermining her whole narrative that I’m the evil aggressor. I forwarded the police report to her lawyer for the will contest, with a note from Mr. Thompson that we intend to file a restraining order as well. I suspect her lawyer must be having migraines dealing with her at this point.
As for me, I’ve been staying at a friend’s house the last few nights because, honestly, I’m a bit traumatised and don’t want to sleep at home alone right now. I’m considering getting a home security service or even a short-term personal security guard if I need to go to court. Maybe that sounds overdramatic, but after that night, I take her threats very seriously.
I wish I could say that this break-in was the climax and end of the madness… but we’re not quite there yet. Believe it or not, there’s one more big shoe to drop. I’ll save that for the next update, as this is already a lot to take in.
Let’s just say Richard had one final surprise up his sleeve, and it’s about to turn this whole feud on its head.
(Cliffhanger: stay tuned for the final update, because it’s a doozy.)
Final Update – Husband’s Final Surprise and Aftermath (3 Months Later)
Hello, Reddit. This will likely be my last update on this saga – and fittingly, it comes with the final bombshell that my late husband had in store. A lot has happened since the break-in incident. We’re about three months out now, and the legal battle took a turn that left everyone speechless. I’ve had time to get past the shock and gather my thoughts to share with you all. Spoiler: Richard managed to humble his daughters from beyond the grave in the most dramatic way possible.
After Evelyn’s arrest for the break-in, things moved quickly. Her will contest case was still technically pending, but her credibility (and sanity, frankly) were in the gutter after that stunt. Mr. Thompson filed for a restraining order on my behalf, which was granted with no opposition – Evelyn is not allowed within 500 feet of me or my home now. (She didn’t even show up to the RO hearing, which probably helped my case.)
Legally, we could have pushed to have the will contest thrown out right then, using the incident as evidence of her malicious intent. But Mr. Thompson advised we hold off for one reason: Richard’s final surprise. He revealed to me (and to the court in filings) that Richard had left a video message with instructions to be used if any of his children formally contested the will. Yes, you read that right – my husband apparently sat down with a camera, recorded himself, and entrusted the video to Mr. Thompson with specific timing: it was only to be presented if a will contest went forward. Otherwise, if everyone accepted the will, the video was to remain private.
Well, the scenario for unveiling it had arrived. A court mediation conference was scheduled (a required step in our state before a will contest can go to trial). Both parties are supposed to attend – that meant me (and my lawyer) and Evelyn (and hers). Dana and Colleen were not required since they weren’t contesting, but to my surprise, they asked to come “for support and to finally put this to rest.” I think they were as curious (and anxious) as I was about what their dad might have recorded.
Picture a conference room: a neutral mediator, a judge in training basically, is there, along with Mr. Thompson and his assistant, me, my security guard (yes, I brought one because I did not trust being in the same room as Evelyn even with others around), Evelyn and her now very frazzled attorney, and unexpectedly, Dana and Colleen sitting in the back. Evelyn looked worn out – the past months clearly took a toll. She gave her sisters a nasty look but said nothing to them. She refused to even glance my way (probably for the best).
The mediator started with the usual introductions and spiel about seeing if we could reach a settlement. I could see Evelyn’s lawyer readying to launch into their (flimsy) accusations again, but Mr. Thompson politely interrupted and said, “Before we begin, the decedent, Mr. [Richard’s Last Name], left a relevant video statement I’d like to present. It may help clarify his intentions.” The mediator allowed it.
Mr. Thompson pulled out a USB drive and plugged it into a TV/monitor setup in the room. My heart was in my throat. Evelyn shifted in her seat; I suspect she was caught between curiosity and her ego insisting this was somehow a trick.
Then Richard appeared on screen. I immediately felt tears well up. There he was – alive, smiling gently, wearing his favorite navy sweater – speaking in his rich, warm voice from beyond the grave.
He addressed us collectively: “Hello, if you’re seeing this, I guess it means someone wasn’t happy with what I wrote in my will.” He gave a wry, sad smile. “I’m hoping this message is unnecessary, but just in case… let me make a few things very clear.”
He stated the date of the recording (it was indeed from two years before, right after he updated the will). He explained in simple terms that no one influenced him, that he made his estate decisions with a clear mind and a heavy heart, but firm resolve. “I did what I felt was right, and I won’t apologize for it,” he said, “Even though I know not everyone will agree.”
Then he addressed each daughter by name. “Evelyn,” he said, and I saw her flinch at hearing her name, “I suspect this challenge might have been your idea. I want to remind you of something. When you were 16, you got caught cheating on a big exam. You were angry you failed, and you blamed everyone but yourself. I sat you down and told you to take responsibility for your actions. I’ll tell you now the same thing: take responsibility. Your behavior towards me and [my wife’s name] has been unacceptable. I hoped leaving you the silverware and a personal letter would show you I still care, but I would not reward the disrespect you’ve shown.”
He actually chuckled softly, “You might be thinking, ‘How dare he air this on video.’ But you left me no choice, kiddo. If you’re in that room trying to tear apart my will, it means you didn’t heed my letter’s words. So now everyone knows why I did what I did.”
Evelyn’s face at this point was blank and pale. She looked frozen in place.
Richard then addressed “Dana”: He spoke about how she had grown distant and how he regretted not mending things before it was too late. He praised her good qualities, but also said, “I know you’ve struggled with resentment. I hoped my letter would help you let it go. Don’t let Evelyn or anyone drag you into a fight that will only hurt you and your child. I left you what I could in good conscience, and I hope you understand why.” I saw Dana silently crying, her hand over her mouth.
To “Colleen”: he smiled and said he was proud of her and grateful that she at least tried to keep some peace (even though, as she herself admitted to me later, she hadn’t done enough in life – but it seems Richard saw her kind heart regardless). He urged her to stay strong and not be influenced by negativity. Colleen was openly weeping at this point.
Then, Richard’s tone shifted a bit – more stern. He looked directly into the camera (so, effectively, directly at us in the room). “To anyone challenging my decisions: Stop. Right. Now. You are not going to win. And even if by some miracle you did, ask yourself – what exactly are you winning? Lawyers’ fees? A fractured family? I made my wishes clear. I wanted to take care of my wife, and I’ve also provided for my grandchildren’s futures. I did not forget about any of you. You each got personal keepsakes, and you each got something more valuable than money in those letters I wrote.” He paused, voice cracking slightly, “Those letters contain my love and my hopes for you. If that’s not enough and you’re hell-bent on fighting, then I am truly disappointed. Because it means you value money over our relationship.”
By this point, even the mediator looked moved. I was quietly sobbing. But Richard wasn’t done.
Finally, he spoke to me – by name – on the video. “My love,” he said softly, “if you’re hearing this, I’m so sorry. I never wanted things to be this hard for you. Stay strong and know that I loved you with all my heart. Use whatever I’ve left you to build a happy life. And don’t let anyone make you feel like you don’t deserve every bit of it. You do. You earned it by being the light of my life.”
I had to stifle a sob and could feel Dana’s hand on my shoulder from behind in that moment, a surprising gesture of comfort.
Richard concluded the video addressing all of us again: “I hope all of you can move forward and remember me with love, not anger or guilt. Please take care of each other, and of [my wife’s name]. That’s the only favor I’ll ever ask.” He gave a little salute and a sad smile, “Goodbye, and God bless.”
The screen went black.
The room was utterly silent except for sniffling. I don’t think there was a dry eye, including the mediator and the court staff present.
Evelyn… I looked at her finally. She was hunched over, face in her hands. I couldn’t tell if she was crying – I didn’t hear sobs. But when she finally lifted her face, her eyes were red. She looked shattered. Without a word, she stood up and walked out of the room. Her attorney gathered his papers, murmured that they would be in touch, and hastily followed her out.
Dana and Colleen came to my side, and we all just held each other for a moment. Even in our tangled mess of relationships, we had one thing in common: we loved Richard, and we had just heard his voice one last time, scolding us and loving us in equal measure.
That video was the final nail in the coffin of the contest (and a healing moment too, I think). Within a week, Evelyn’s lawyer formally withdrew the challenge. Word is that after that mediation, he told her she had zero case and he wouldn’t continue. She likely realized continuing would only further disgrace her in front of a judge who might have seen that video. So she gave up.
Just like that, the legal fight was over. I can’t fully describe the relief I felt when Mr. Thompson called me to say Evelyn was dropping the case. I ugly-cried in the bathtub for a good half hour, releasing months of tension.
In the aftermath, here’s how things stand:
- Evelyn pleaded guilty to misdemeanor trespassing for the break-in (in exchange, they dropped the more serious B&E charge). She got a year of probation and some community service. I heard through town gossip that her husband nearly left her over the entire ordeal, but they’re in therapy trying to work things out. I also heard she’s been attending anger management or counseling on her own. We aren’t in contact (part of the RO is no contact, and honestly I have no desire to see or speak to her right now). However, through Dana, I learned that Evelyn was deeply embarrassed by the video and by how far she let things go. Apparently, she’s been very quiet and reclusive since. I don’t know if she’ll ever swallow her pride enough to apologize to me directly, but I’m not holding my breath. I’m just glad she’s finally leaving me alone. Perhaps that is the start of her humbling.
- Dana and I have cautiously built a better relationship. We’re not suddenly best friends or anything, but we check in occasionally (mostly about her daughter, who just got into a great college – she texted me that news along with a heartfelt, “Dad would’ve been so proud,” which warmed my heart). Dana even invited me to lunch with her and her daughter a couple weeks ago as a small peace offering. I went, and it was actually lovely. We shared some nice memories of Richard together. I think healing is happening there.
- Colleen has stayed the closest. We talk at least once a week. She’s been a rock for me, and I for her. She confessed that after seeing the video and all that transpired, she decided to start therapy to deal with her own guilt and grief. She also convinced Dana to join her for some sessions (sisters therapy, I suppose). I admire them for that. We even visited Richard’s grave together recently – just me, Dana, Colleen (no Evelyn) – and we had a little picnic nearby, sharing our favorite stories about him. It was bittersweet but ultimately joyful. I felt like Richard’s wish for reconciliation, at least partially, was coming true in that moment.
- As for me, I’m doing… okay. Better than okay, actually. The cloud of stress and fear has lifted. I’m still seeing a therapist to navigate the trauma of it all, but I’m optimistic. I plan to honor Richard’s memory by living well. I’ve started volunteering with that heart disease charity he loved, and I even made a donation from his estate to them, which I think would make him smile. I’m also planning a much-delayed trip to a place Richard and I always talked about visiting – I’ll be going with a close friend, and I consider it a way to celebrate his life.
Reflecting on this whole saga, it’s astonishing how dramatically the power dynamic flipped. I started as the “outsider” in this family, an easy target for three angry sisters. For a while there, I felt powerless and alone. But Richard, ever the protective and sly planner, made sure I had the upper hand when it mattered most. He foresaw the worst and gave me the tools to handle it – from the solid will and trust, to the heartfelt letters, to that final show-stopping video that left everyone speechless. His love and foresight not only protected me, but also forced his daughters to confront their own behavior.
It’s sad that it had to come to this, but I hope this will be a turning point, especially for Evelyn. People don’t change overnight, but maybe – just maybe – hearing her father’s disappointment straight from his mouth will plant a seed in her to be better. I genuinely hope so, for her sake and her son’s.
To everyone who has read and supported me through this ordeal: thank you. Your comments and messages kept me going on some dark days. I never expected my post to blow up like it did, but I’m grateful it did because I felt less alone with thousands of internet strangers cheering me on.
In the end, as the title suggests, they called me a gold-digger… but it was my husband who had the last laugh. And oh boy, what a satisfying last laugh it was.
(Finale: Thank you for reading. I’m off to live my life anew, carrying Richard’s love with me every step of the way.)