Ryan O’Neal’s death closed the curtain on a career that helped define an era, yet his final chapter unfolded in aching quiet. Only a small circle gathered at Westwood Memorial Park, where his son Patrick tried to stitch together dignity from years of turmoil, addiction, estrangement, and regret. Griffin arrived after driving across the country, only to find himself excluded from the service of a father he hadn’t spoken to in 17 years. Tatum, once the child star by his side and later his most public critic, mourned from afar, clinging to the hard-won truth that they had finally found their way back to each other.

In death, Ryan was placed beside Farrah Fawcett, the woman whose love story with him was as chaotic as it was enduring. Disputes over her wishes flared again, yet those closest insisted their bond was real, flawed, and deep. As arguments over legacy and loyalty rage on, one thing remains: a brilliant, broken man, loved imperfectly by a family still trying to make sense of his shadow.