“On the second anniversary of my sister Stacy’s passing, I took my pug, SJ, to the local park, hoping to distract myself from my sorrow. As I sat watching SJ bound through the grass, I solemnly traced the silver charm bracelet on my wrist. It was the last gift my sister had given me.
“I choked back tears as I studied each charm, symbols of places we’d gone and things we loved. My favorite was the seashell that represented our family trips to the shore. When we were little girls, Stacy and I spent hours hunting for shells—I still have some of our prettiest treasures on my shelf.
“My heart ached as memories of us holding hands on the beach came rushing back, but my thoughts were disrupted by SJ, who barked and started digging frantically. When I saw what she’d found, my soul took flight. There, hundreds of miles from the ocean, was a perfect, beautiful seashell.”
—Daryl Smith, 41, Dallas
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