At 74, Jay Leno Prepares for the Inevitable, Sets Aside Fortune for His Cars — ‘No One Lives Forever

After leaving behind his successful career as the host of late-night talk shows, Jay Leno launched a web series on nbc.com (2015 to 2022) about cars.

Jay Leno’s Garage, now appearing to more than 3.7 million subscribers on YouTube, allows the comedian to share his passion for cars and bikes with his audience.

In November 2022, the former Tonight Show host was badly burned when a fire broke out in his Burbank, California garage.

“I got some serious burns from a gasoline fire.” Leno told Variety at the time “I am OK. Just need a week or two to get back on my feet.”

According to reports, the now 74-year-old man was working under a car when the fire sparked. He suffered third degree burns on his face and got a new left ear after losing his first one to the fire.

Unfortunately, his luck didn’t get any better.

Only two months after the fire, he suffered a broken collarbone, two cracked ribs and two cracked kneecaps in a motorcycle accident.

‘Treats Mavis like gold’
Despite his body breaking down with aging, passion-related accidents and high cholesterol, the one thing that holds strong in his life is his love for Mavis, who he married in 1980.

“I always tell guys when they meet a woman, ‘Marry your conscience. Marry someone who’s the person you wish you could be and it works out okay.” Leno tells People of his enduring love with Mavis, now 77.

After 45 years together, the childless couple started facing some hardships.

Mavis was diagnosed with dementia and her condition is rapidly declining.

In April 2024, Leno was granted a conservatorship over his wife’s estate by a Los Angeles Superior Court judge who ruled the measure was “necessary and appropriate.”

According to court documents obtained by Entertainment Tonight, “Mavis has been progressively losing capacity and orientation to space and time for several years.”

The filing also says and “Jay is fully capable of continuing support for Mavis’ physical and financial needs, as he has throughout their marriage,” but her “current condition renders her incapable of executing the estate plan.”

Included in the documents is a statement from her neurologist Dr. Cohen: “Sometimes [Mavis] does not know her husband, Jay, nor her date of birth.”

Cohen, Mavis’ attending doctor at Cedars Sinai, adds that Leno “loves his wife very much” and “treats [Mavis] like gold.”

‘No one lives forever’
Only months later, In Touch reports that Leno is now preparing for his own death, making end-of-life arrangements so his fortunes are delivered to the rightful beneficiaries.

The filing reads: “No one lives forever, and the actions taken by Mr. Leno are reasonable and necessary for his and Mavis’ protection. Mavis does not object to the petition and in my opinion consents to it. Mr. Leno is her protector, and she trusts him. This estate planning is in her best interest and protects her interests.”

Leno’s latest filing details provisions for Mavis’ care and discloses that the couple intends to stay in their home “for as long as reasonably possible,” using their money for “assistance from household employees or caregivers as may be necessary.”

If Leno dies first, “the estate will divide into the Leno Marital Trust…it will have the Leno Collection and any real property housing Leno Collection. It will be irrevocable, and the survivor receives all income, plus principal for reasonable support. After the survivor’s death, after-tax balance will be distributed, along with the Leno Trust to JDM.”

The Leno Collection is Leno’s collection of automobiles and motorcycles, that’s valued at more than $52 million, and any real property.

Leno also instructed the JDM Foundation, a charity he launched in 1988, to open a museum with his automobile collection, and he’s already named the three initial directors.

In addition, Leno is leaving $7 million to Mavis’ brother Rikki Nicholson, who lives next door, and to his nephew Richard Leno.

The court-appointed official said Leno’s amendments to the trust will likely be approved.

It’s hard to imagine a world without Jay Leno! Please let us know what you think and then share this story so we can send Leno and Mavis a lot of love!

I Walked Out of My Own Birthday Dinner in Tears from Humiliation After My Fiancé’s ‘Surprise’

After a tough year, Morgan’s fiancé promised her birthday would be unforgettable. Dressed up and hopeful, she walks into a lavish surprise party. But the night takes a cruel turn when he stands to toast and hands her a demeaning gift.

I wasn’t one for grand celebrations. A cake and a quiet evening would’ve been perfect — especially this year.

A tense woman | Source: Midjourney

A tense woman | Source: Midjourney

Between my struggle adapting to an increased workload after a job promotion, losing my childhood dog, Rufus, and watching Dad’s health slowly decline, I was emotionally drained.

Turning 30 felt like just another thing to get through.

So when Greyson started acting mysterious about my birthday (hiding his phone with a smirk, dropping hints like, “You’re gonna love what I’ve planned. It’s gonna blow your mind”), I dared to hope for something sweet. Maybe even healing.

A couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

A couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

“Wear something nice,” he told me that night. “Something you’d wear to a fancy rooftop place.”

I took my time getting ready. When I walked into the living room, Greyson looked up from his phone and whistled.

“Perfect,” he said, his eyes moving up and down. “You actually look good when you put in some effort.” He added in what I recognized as his teasing voice, “And you’re gonna need to look stunning for this.”

A man speaking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

My heart fluttered as we drove. He really did something nice, I thought. After months of feeling invisible, I finally mattered enough for him to plan something special.

We pulled up to an elegant restaurant. Jazz played softly as the hostess smiled and led us toward a private room.

The door swung open, and—

“SURPRISE!”

A woman blowing confetti into the air | Source: Pexels

A woman blowing confetti into the air | Source: Pexels

The room exploded with applause from friends and family. A massive cake shaped like stacked books sat on a table (a nod to my job as a librarian). It was perfect!

I turned to Greyson, genuinely moved. He leaned in and cupped my face, speaking to me alone: “See? I always know exactly what you need.”

I nodded and smiled up at him. He did. He really did.

A couple embracing | Source: Pexels

A couple embracing | Source: Pexels

For the first time in months, I let my guard down and allowed myself to enjoy the moment.

Laughter, toasts, candles… and Greyson showing a rare display of affection, his arm draped around my waist as we mingled.

About an hour in, Greyson stood and clinked his glass with a spoon. “Attention everyone! Time for a toast! And then, the main gift for our birthday girl.”

A glass on a table | Source: Pexels

A glass on a table | Source: Pexels

The room quieted. I felt a flush of pleasure as everyone turned to look at us.

“I want to thank everyone for coming tonight,” he started. “As you all know, Morgan’s been through a lot lately; job stress, losing her dog, and, well… turning 30.”

He paused for effect, and laughter bubbled awkwardly through the room.

Guests at a party | Source: Midjourney

Guests at a party | Source: Midjourney

“I thought long and hard about what to get you, babe,” he continued, turning to me. “Jewelry? Nah, you’d probably lose it like that bracelet I got you last Christmas. A vacation? Too cliché. So I decided to get you something truly useful.”

He reached under the table and pulled out a gift bag tied with a pink ribbon.

The crowd “oohed” appreciatively. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

He handed it to me with a flourish. “Go ahead, open it.”

I pulled out the tissue paper, expecting maybe concert tickets or a beautiful journal. Instead, I pulled out… pink rubber gloves.

Then a sponge. Paper towels. And finally, a toilet brush.

My smile froze.

Miscellaneous cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels

Miscellaneous cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels

“Now you’ve got NO excuse to keep leaving dishes in the sink, babe!” Greyson laughed.

Polite laughter rippled through the room. My cheeks burned, no longer from joy. I forced my smile to stay put.

“Very funny,” I managed.

“Oh, and don’t worry — I did get you a real gift,” Greyson said, as if reading my mind.

A woman looking hopefully at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking hopefully at someone | Source: Midjourney

Relief washed over me. Of course. This was just his way of being playful before the real surprise.

He handed me an envelope. Inside was a laminated chore chart with my name on every line: dishes, vacuuming, bathroom, laundry, groceries, meal prep.

“I made this so you don’t forget what your jobs are around the house,” he explained brightly. “Because I definitely won’t.”

A man smiling while speaking | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling while speaking | Source: Midjourney

A few strained chuckles sounded from my guests.

“Is this the real gift, or…?” I whispered.

“Oh no, I’m serious,” he shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who’s always saying you ‘thrive with structure,’ right?” Then, he leaned in close and said under his breath, “Think of it as a home promotion to go with your job promotion last month. Happy Birthday!”

A man staring intently at a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man staring intently at a woman | Source: Midjourney

I don’t remember the next few minutes clearly.

I know I smiled. Nodded. Thanked him. I remember folding the chart carefully and placing it back in the envelope. I excused myself, saying I needed some air.

I walked out to the parking lot, sat in our car, and cried for 20 minutes.

Cars in a parking lot | Source: Pexels

Cars in a parking lot | Source: Pexels

Just when I was debating whether to return to the party or simply vanish, someone knocked on the car window.

It was Natalie, Greyson’s cousin. I quickly wiped my eyes, but it was too late. She had seen.

She opened the passenger door and slid in beside me. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me.

A woman getting into a car | Source: Pexels

A woman getting into a car | Source: Pexels

“That was disgusting,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

I broke down again, the dam finally giving way.

“I don’t understand,” I sobbed. “Why would he do that? In front of everyone? On my birthday?”

Natalie pulled back, her expression troubled. “This wasn’t last-minute, Morgan. He’s been planning this for weeks.”

A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

“What?”

She nodded grimly. “He called me to help arrange the surprise party three weeks ago. And he said, and I quote, ‘She thinks she’s so perfect. Let’s humble her a little.'”

My world tilted. “What are you talking about?”

“He told Jason that you’ve been getting ‘too full of yourself’ since your promotion. That you needed to be knocked down a peg.”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

I felt sick. “But I’ve barely mentioned my promotion. I’ve been so focused on Dad’s health and—”

“I know,” Natalie cut in. “But Greyson… his jokes have always had a mean edge, but he went too far this time.”

“I should go back in,” I said numbly.

A sad woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t have to,” Natalie replied. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

“No,” I shook my head. “I… I want to salvage what I can of this night.”

I went home that night shattered, replaying every moment of the evening. Greyson was attentive, asking if I liked my surprise party and if I was excited about my “gifts.” I smiled and nodded, something hollow growing inside me.

People lying on a bed with their feet intertwined | Source: Pexels

People lying on a bed with their feet intertwined | Source: Pexels

The next morning, I quietly packed a weekend bag, removed my engagement ring, and drove to my sister’s house two towns over.

I ignored Greyson’s frantic texts: “Where are you???” “Are you seriously mad about a joke???” “Everyone thought it was funny except you.”

Over the next few days, I replayed the last two years: his subtle jabs disguised as concern, the passive-aggressive jokes, the financial control masked as “being responsible.”

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

I started documenting everything: screenshots of texts, voice notes I’d saved, comments about chores, my cooking, and how I dressed.

The truth clicked into place: this wasn’t a one-time cruelty, but a painful pattern of emotional abuse. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before.

Two weeks later, while Greyson was at the gym, I returned to our apartment with Natalie and two friends.

A woman in an apartment | Source: Midjourney

A woman in an apartment | Source: Midjourney

We boxed up my things quickly and efficiently.

But I also left something: his own chore chart, printed and laminated, with each task assigned to “Greyson.”

I stuck a Post-it note on it that read: “No excuse now. You’ve got this, right?”

Then I blocked his number. I thought that was the end of it, but I was wrong.

A woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney

A month later, as I was settling into my new routine, I got a DM on Facebook from Margo, Greyson’s ex.

“You probably don’t know me,” it read. “We only met once briefly, but I dated Greyson before you. I saw that your relationship status changed and your ring was gone in your new profile picture. I just wanted to say… I understand.”

We met for coffee.

The interior of a coffee shop | Source: Pexels

The interior of a coffee shop | Source: Pexels

Margo told me about how Greyson had pulled the same public shaming trick at her college graduation party three years ago.

“He stood up in front of my entire family and announced that I only got honors because I ‘slept less and kissed up to more professors.’ Everyone laughed uncomfortably. I was humiliated.”

We talked for hours, piecing together the pattern of a man who built himself up by tearing others down.

Then we decided to do something about him.

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

Together, we wrote a PSA-style post about humiliation masked as humor, emotional manipulation, and the subtle forms abuse can take.

We didn’t mention names, but we spoke our truths and anyone who knew us could figure out who we were referring to.

The post spread like wildfire.

A woman scrolling on her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman scrolling on her phone | Source: Pexels

It had 13,000 shares within days. Comments flooded in: “This happened to me too.” “I thought I was alone.” “I’m still trying to find the courage to leave.”

Greyson deleted all his social media within 48 hours. I later heard that he left town to “start over.”

But I wasn’t watching. I was rebuilding.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

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