Part 1: The Morning My Dog Wouldn’t Stop Scratching at the Door

in ways that didn’t break us apart. We shared small memories. Her laugh. The way she sang off-key. The notes she left in strange places around the house.

Grief was still there, heavy and real, but it no longer filled every corner.

One evening, Daniel surprised me by asking if we could go back to the shed together.

We stood there quietly, side by side,continue reading …