Kashmere Gardens Funeral Home

This is a very old funeral home in a very small and old part of town. Most of the business is through word of mouth or suggestions through family friends. I used this funeral home because the intern is the niece of a now former family friend.
After my grandmother’s death and up to the funeral they were so nice and helpful. After my grandmother’s funeral and my flight back home, communication ceased.
They were paid and then I was ignored.
My phone calls weren’t returned, there was no communication on legalities or any of the process. They didn’t inform me that the urn I ordered for my grandmother was on back order, they didn’t ship my grandmother’s ashes, they didn’t return the money left over from when they were paid (the insurance company sent a check that was larger than the funeral bill).
My grandmother raised me. She was my sole parent. My life is/​was torn to pieces. The main villains in all of this were the funeral director who ignored me and the intern who began treating me in a malicious manner. I was in a state of depression and had my wife handle everything from now on. The intern refused to speak to my wife, refused to acknowledge our marriage, and repeatedly sent my wife and I homophobic and degrading text messages. When I or my wife would call, the receptionist would say the funeral director wasn’t there and when we’d call when they said she would be there, we were told she wasn’t there.
After contacting the Texas Funeral Service Commission and hiring a lawyer, the intern and her family stopped their evil and disgusting verbal harassment, I was given my grandmother’s ashes and the money. My grandmother died in August and I didn’t receive her ashes until November. They lied repeatedly about my grandmother’s ashes not being ready and the urn being on back order and this, that, and the other. They discriminated against a 20 year old young woman trying to put her dead grandmother to rest. If they had issues with me being a lesbian, they shouldn’t have offered their «services» in the first place. But how can anyone see anything more than a broken heart when someone is grieving? What was the purpose in making anything so evil?
How do I know my sexuality is behind all of this? I called the old family friend to ask for his help in dealing with them and when I said I told people to talk to my wife he says, «I don’t know what law that is, but it ain’t Texas law». His niece, the intern, repeatedly texted me and my wife calling us «dykes».