The prom dress arrived at my house the day after my granddaughter Gwen’s funeral. Seeing that box on my porch brought back a wave of grief I thought I had already faced. Gwen had been my entire world since she was eight years old, after her parents—my son and his wife—passed away in a tragic accident.

From that moment on, it was just the two of us. We learned how to rebuild life together, slowly and imperfectly, and over the years she grew into a bright, kind young woman who talked endlessly about her future.

Prom was something she had been especially excited about, spending weeks showing me dresses on her phone and

imagining what the night would be like.When I finally opened the box, I found the beautiful blue gown she had chosen—shimmering softly in the light, exactly the kind she had dreamed of wearing. Sitting there with the dress in my hands, I had a strange thought: if Gwen couldn’t attend her prom, perhaps I could go in her,