This is an incredible story I wanted to share (actual names have been changed for privacy).
My friend Carlie from work (Angel's mom, the cute puppy) and I go walking every afternoon with our dogs. We've become good friends, talking about everything. She listens to my stories about the pains and challenges I've faced in court, often reminding me of my strength and expressing her admiration.
Recently, Carlie has been struggling financially. Last week, she confided in me about how embarrassed she felt for not having enough money and needing to borrow from her ex to pay rent. Despite brainstorming ways to help her, like loans from her 401K, we couldn't find a solid solution.
This morning, Carlie joined me for our usual walk, but she was unusually excited. An attorney had called her to inform her that she was named an heir to part of the Dayton estate, which was finalizing probate. Carlie had almost forgotten about her connection to the Dayton family, as her father had distanced himself from them and had since passed away. Her aunt, however, insisted during probate that Carlie’s father receive his rightful share, which would be passed on to his children.
As we walked to South Lake Union, Carlie danced with joy, remembering her father. We sat down and shared what our parents meant to us. Carlie often tells me I am one of the strongest people she knows and admires my perseverance. She believed that my fight for justice in court had somehow paved the way for her to receive her inheritance when she needed it most.
Carlie also shared the experience of spreading her father’s ashes in Seattle, by the Space Needle, and why returning home felt spiritually significant to her. She asked if her good news was painful for me, given my court struggles. I told her it was quite the opposite—it was one of the most inspiring, beautiful, and comforting stories I had ever heard. It felt as though our parents were with us during that walk, watching over us.
At that moment, I accepted that I might never be able to spread my mom’s ashes as she intended. I realized that living a good life spreads her spirit more than ashes ever could. Fighting for truth and justice in her honor has been challenging, and Carlie’s gratitude meant a lot to me.
Today was filled with deep emotions and brought me a sense of closure. I felt stronger, knowing my mom would be proud of us both.
How amazing is it that Carlie is a Dayton? She had been following my family’s legacy while almost forgetting her own roots. I joked with her about changing her name to Dayton, but she laughed and said she’s had enough name changes from two marriages.
This story is both inspiring and beautiful. I love you, Mom, and miss you. I also send my regards to Carlie’s dad, whom I have met in spirit through his courageous daughter.
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