After My Husband Died, My MIL Donated All My Furniture While I Was in the Hospital – Karma Didn’t Just Knock, It Kicked the Door Down

“I scattered his ashes at the lake. You know, that fishing spot Calder loved? Thought it was time.

The urn… I donated that too. Someone else might find use for it.”

“You scattered Calder’s ashes without me… and gave away the urn?”

She shrugged.

“It was what he would’ve wanted. Closure.”

My heart just shattered all over again. How do you explain to someone that closure isn’t something you steal?

My voice came out flat. “Get out.”

“Get out of my house.”

She looked genuinely surprised. “I’m his mother.

That house was built with his money.”

“GET OUT!”

She left in a huff, muttering about ungrateful daughters-in-law who don’t appreciate help. That night, I cut Marjorie off completely. I blocked her number and stopped responding to emails.

I even told the church coordinator I wanted nothing to do with their donation program. I slept on an air mattress in an empty room and cried myself hoarse. I thought that was the worst of it.

I was wrong. Because karma doesn’t sleep. And Marjorie had just invited it in.

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