My Dog Brought Me My Late Daughters Sweater the Police Had Taken, Then He Led Me to a Place That Stopped Me Cold
Three weeks after losing my daughter, I was moving through life as if underwater—slow, heavy, numb. Grief had split my world open, and nothing made sense anymore. The morning it happened, the fog outside the kitchen window hung low across the yard, blurring the edges of everything. I sat at the table in my husband’s…