The dog groomer gave me the fur from my husband’s last dog

Dear Delyara, My husband died six months ago. Our old golden retriever, Molly, died this week. I thought losing the dog would be sad, but manageable. Instead, it has demolished something I did not realize I was still standing on. Molly was the last living thing in the house that remembered my husband without needing a photograph. She knew the sound of his truck, slept on his side of the bed after he died, and continued checking the garage at five-thirty because that was when he used to come home. Before Molly was euthanized, the groomer who had known her for years clipped a small lock of fur and placed it in an envelope for me. I did not ask. She wrote, “For both of them.” That sentence broke me. Tonight, the house is silent in a new way. No claws on the kitchen floor. No dog breathing beside the sofa. I had thought grief was losing my husband once. Now I understand I will lose pieces of the world that knew him, one by one. The dog. His favorite café if it closes. People who remember his voice. Eventually, I may become the last person in the room who knows exactly how he laughed.