I Set Off in My RV to Scatter My Mother’s Ashes

After my mother’s death, I felt alone in her empty apartment, a painful reminder of her absence. My father had left before I was born. Selling the apartment, I planned to visit the town where Mom once lived, where she left me a property. I bought a worn 1985 RV from an ad, seeking freedom from my grief.

Driving to the town, the RV broke down in a dark forest. Stranded with no cell service, I was rescued by Oliver and his daughter Grace, who towed me to a station. The mechanic said repairs would take days, so I joined them. At a motel, a photo fell from Oliver’s wallet—my mother. He revealed they lived together in that town, but she vanished. I realized she was pregnant with me when she left, believing Oliver chose another woman due to a forged letter from Grace’s mother.

Angry, I confronted Grace, but our argument led nowhere. I left for the town alone. The lawyer revealed the house was half Oliver’s. Visiting it, I found Mom’s sewing tools and photos of her with Oliver. We scattered her ashes, easing my anger. Grace left, giving me time with Oliver. Inspired by Mom’s fabrics, I began designing, ready to build a family with my father.