My Sister-in-Law Threw Away Our Mom’s Ashes Without Telling Us — Karma Struck Her on Christmas

Everyone had made plans to gather at my house for Christmas dinner this year, but just a few days before the celebration, my brother and his wife unexpectedly arrived, asking if they could stay. While I wasn’t too bothered by their surprise visit at first, my sister-in-law soon tested my patience with her outrageous behavior!

A week before Christmas, my brother, Ryan, and his wife, Lindsey, showed up at our doorstep, looking flustered and bundled up against the cold. Their heating system had failed, and with the harsh winter weather, their home had become uninhabitable. Although I had some reservations, my husband, Nathan, and I welcomed them in, unaware of the catastrophe that would unfold due to our hospitality.

“We really appreciate you letting us stay,” Ryan said, setting their luggage down in the hallway. “We may have to be here through the holidays since it’s been impossible to find an available electrician this time of year, but we’re still trying.”

“It’s not an issue,” Nathan responded, always the gracious host. “Make yourselves at home.”

Initially, everything seemed fine. However, by the third day, Lindsey’s behavior was becoming increasingly frustrating.

She took over our master bathroom, leaving damp towels and scattered toiletries behind, even though she had access to the guest bathroom. To make matters worse, I realized some of my sweaters and other clothes had mysteriously ended up in her suitcase—without her even asking to borrow them!

I didn’t want to create a scene, but my annoyance grew. Still, nothing compared to what I discovered on the morning of Christmas Eve!

As we gathered for breakfast, something felt off. The mantel in the living room, which I had carefully adorned with garlands and stockings, seemed… empty. My heart pounded.

“Has anyone seen Mom?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. I was referring to the black marble urn that held my mother’s ashes, which we had placed there in accordance with her final wish—to “spend” Christmas with us.

This was our first Christmas without Mom. She had passed away following a brief battle with cancer, and before she died, she made my brother and me promise to keep her ashes with us in the living room where we celebrated Christmas so she could “be with us one last time.”

After the holiday, Ryan and I had planned to scatter her ashes at her favorite spot—the nearby river where she and our late father had shared their first date. But now, she had vanished.

Lindsey barely looked up from her breakfast, offering only a casual shrug. “Oh, you mean her ashes? I tossed them out in the backyard. That urn freaked me out every time I saw it!”

Silence fell over the room. Time seemed to stand still as her words sank in.

“You did what?!” I finally managed to shout, my voice filled with disbelief.

“I threw them out,” she repeated nonchalantly, as though discussing ordinary trash. “Calm down. It’s just ashes. Why is everyone acting so dramatic?”

Fury erupted within me, and before I could stop myself, I jumped up from my chair, ready to lunge at her. Nathan and Ryan rushed in to restrain me!

“You had no right!” I screamed, tears rolling down my face. “Mom had one final wish, and you—how could you?!”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “It’s not like she’d even know,” she scoffed.

Her apathy stung like a slap to the face! Trembling with rage, I stormed into the backyard, desperately hoping I could still recover something.

For the next hour, I painstakingly searched through the grass and checked the urn, which was now in the trash. But there was almost nothing left to salvage. My mother’s remains, her memory, were gone.

That night, as I lay in bed, fury simmered inside me! I wanted nothing more than to kick Lindsey out immediately, but Ryan’s pleading glance at dinner had given me pause.

“Please, just let us stay until after Christmas,” he had whispered. “We have nowhere else to go on such short notice.”

Reluctantly, I agreed, but I had no idea how I’d get through the next twenty-four hours without completely losing my temper!

Around midnight, a chilling scream shattered the stillness! Nathan and I jolted awake, exchanging alarmed glances before rushing upstairs. The smell hit us before we even reached the doorway to Ryan and Lindsey’s room—a putrid, stomach-churning stench that made my eyes water.

“What on earth?” Nathan muttered, covering his nose. We burst in to find Lindsey standing atop the bed, shrieking and clutching her head!

The carpet, her clothes, and even some of mine were drenched in murky water, with a vile-smelling mess seeping from the attached bathroom.

“Oh my God!” Lindsey wailed. “It’s everywhere! Do something!”

Nathan tried to keep a straight face, but I saw the corners of his mouth twitching. “Well,” he mused, “seems like the toilet’s backed up.”

“Strange,” I chimed in, unable to suppress my amusement. “The guest bathroom is working just fine, and ours is too!” I said, a little too cheerfully.

“Must be some kind of Christmas miracle,” my husband quipped, barely holding back laughter, while my brother’s wife shot him a death glare.

Ryan was kneeling near the bathroom door, desperately trying to soak up the mess with a towel. “Sweetheart, maybe we should—”

“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me!” Lindsey snapped. “Fix this!”

I couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “Maybe this is karma,” I suggested, leaning against the doorway. “For what you did to Mom. She did have a wicked sense of humor.”

Lindsey shot me a murderous look. “This is your house! Your plumbing! Fix it!”

Before I could respond, Nathan intervened. “We’ll call a plumber first thing in the morning,” he said calmly. “In the meantime, maybe you two should sleep in the guest room after cleaning up as much as you can.”

Later, as Lindsey sobbed and mumbled complaints, I whispered to my husband, “Do you think Mom made this happen?”

“If she didn’t, it sure feels like she did,” he chuckled.

The next morning, Ryan admitted to us that Lindsey had clogged the toilet herself. He had been fast asleep when she screamed, slipping in the mess as she fled back to the bed!

We couldn’t help but laugh at the image, and even Ryan joined in!

Unfortunately for Lindsey, her streak of misfortune continued on Christmas Day. The plumber was unavailable until the following morning, meaning we had to endure the lingering scent of sewage throughout our holiday meal.

During dinner, with our extended family present, Lindsey remained unusually quiet, barely touching her food while the rest of us laughed and shared stories.

At one point, Ryan pulled me aside. “Thanks for not throwing us out,” he said awkwardly. “I know Lindsey can be… difficult.”

“Difficult?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Ryan, she discarded Mom’s ashes!” I hissed.

“I know,” he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “I had no idea she’d do that. I’m truly sorry.”

My anger flared again, and for a brief moment, I considered telling him to pack up and leave. But then I glanced at Lindsey—pale-faced, nervously glancing around, clearly expecting more disaster to befall her.

“Maybe this is punishment enough,” I finally muttered. Ryan exhaled in relief.

The evening continued without further mishaps, though Lindsey steered clear of me entirely. When she tried to garner sympathy by whining to our relatives about her ordeal, they unanimously sided with me!

“You threw out their mother’s ashes?” my aunt gasped. “What were you thinking?!”

As the night ended, I felt poetic justice had been served. Nathan grinned and whispered, “You think Mom was still with us today?”

I smiled. “If she was, I really hope she enjoyed the show.”