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A year ago, my life changed in ways I never imagined. My husband, Calder, passed away suddenly in a car accident, and grief overtook me so completely that I ended up in the hospital from exhaustion and shock. When I woke days later, confused and fragile, I kept asking to go home.
I didn’t know that while I lay in that hospital bed, my mother-in-law, Marjorie, had made a decision that would alter everything. She believed she was helping me “move forward,” but her version of help erased the home Calder and I had built together, piece by piece, memory by memory. When I finally returned home, I found my house nearly empty.
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