She died unexpectedly. Her last wish was to raffle off VW Bug at funeral.

Most of the people at Diane Sweeney’s funeral had never met her. As she lay in an open casket last year, dozens of strangers packed Resthaven Funeral Home in Oklahoma City, hoping to benefit from her final wish: to raffle off her most prized possession in the world.

Her white 2016 Volkswagen Beetle.

After a brief illness, Sweeney had died “suddenly and unexpectedly” on July 7, 2022, at the age of 68. But before she did, she told her relatives that she wanted them to raffle off her VW Bug to anyone who signed the guest book at her funeral. The car, which Sweeney had bought new seven years earlier, was more than a vehicle that got her from point A to point B, her niece, Suzanne Singleterry, told the Washington Post. It was her playfulness, creativity and sense of humor made manifest into an ambassador that represented her as she cruised the roads of Oklahoma while singing the likes of Carole King and James Taylor.

Sweeney wanted her final act to represent another part of her personality – her generosity.

A high-schooler she had never met, 15-year-old Gabriella Bonham, saw a TV news story about Sweeney’s last wish as her own future car was on its last legs. She had just gotten her learner’s permit and, although it hadn’t been decided, she’d assumed that she would inherit the 2007 Ford Edge originally owned by her grandparents that was then passed down to two of her older sisters when they started driving. By the time the SUV got to Gabriella, it had “well over 160,000 miles,” her father, Rodney, said.

“Gabbie was limping it to work and back,” he added.

So Gabriella rallied her two sisters, one of her sister’s boyfriends and a cousin to drive to Oklahoma City on July 22, 2022, the day of Sweeney’s funeral. They showed up a little late because her sister, uncomfortable navigating highways, had driven slowly. Upon pulling into the packed parking lot, the group contemplated leaving, worried about disrupting the service.

But they gutted it out, parking in the back. Each of them signed the guest book and sat through the service, which lasted about an hour. To Gabriella’s surprise, there was no raffle that day. They left after the service was over to give Sweeney’s family and friends space to say their goodbyes.

Over the following months, Gabriella mostly forgot about the funeral, and when she did think about it, she assumed someone else had won the car. In the year-plus since, Gabriella turned 16, got her driver’s license and, as she’d predicted, inherited Beige Betty, the Ford Edge that has now been the first car of the three eldest Bonham sisters.

But Beige Betty wasn’t doing so hot, and Gabriella only drove the car when she had to.

“I was babying it so nothing bad would happen,” she said, “and we were just praying for another opportunity to get another car.”

Then, about a month ago, while vacationing with her father and stepmom near Dallas, Gabriella received a phone call from an unknown number. She answered: It was Rick Ingram, Sweeney’s nephew and the executor of her estate. It had taken Sweeney’s relatives more than a year to work through the legal tangle of probate court, but once they did, they’d finally drawn a name from the more 100 people who’d entered the raffle – Gabriella’s, as it turned out.

In the two weeks she’s had her new car, Gabriella has finally felt comfortable driving the 30 minutes to her weekly theater class in Oklahoma City. Before getting Sweeney’s car, she was forced to hit up her sisters for rides or pester them into letting her borrow their cars. Now, she doesn’t have to worry about going out to lunch with a friend who may not get her back to school in time for class.

“I’ve gained a lot of freedom,” she said.

It’s exactly what Sweeney wanted, said Singleterry, her niece.

For years, Sweeney had jokingly or in passing mentioned giving away her car at her funeral. About a month before she died, she’d broached the subject more seriously with Ingram, her nephew. Sweeney thought it might attract friends she’d made while living all across the country over the decades. She also wanted to say goodbye through a final act of generosity with a humorous twist.

“It was a reflection of herself and her sense of humor,” Singleterry said, “and wanting to go out making people feel happy and giving them one last laugh.”

The whole thing was very Aunt Diane, Singleterry added. Sweeney had always been a big supporter of her nieces and nephews, slipping them extra money here and there or sending them trinkets in the mail, part of her deep involvement in their lives. When Singleterry or her cousins visited the New York City area, where Sweeney lived in the mid-2000s, Sweeney played host and paid for them to go to Broadway shows, even if she didn’t attend herself.

“She would ensure that we had a great time,” Singleterry said.

In 2015, Sweeney moved to Norman, Oklahoma, to be closer to family, and when she got there, bought a new Volkswagen Beetle. She’d had one or two other Beetles over the years, bedecking one with a fake daisy in the plastic vase built into the car’s dashboard. She’d cruise around rocking out to King and Taylor, often stopping by her local Sonic to check in on the employees.

She loved everything about her Beetle, from the freedom it provided to “how it sort of replicated her personality,” Singleterry said.

Sweeney’s quirky final act appears destined to live on. Gabriella said a lot of people she’s talked to about the funeral raffle now want to do something similar when their time comes. And although she’s only 16, Gabriella said she wants to do the same.

“It’s just kind of a domino effect,” she said.