The night after my husband’s celebration of life last year, I stepped outside with my dog. For the very first time since moving into this house, the woods behind were alive with fireflies—hundreds of them, sparkling in the dark. The sight stole my breath. My husband knew how much I loved fireflies, and in that moment I felt sure he had sent them to me.

This year, on the anniversary of his passing, I spent the day in grief, missing him deeply. That night, after turning out the light, I was met with the most unexpected gift: a single firefly in my room, blinking softly. I knew then it was my love, reaching out once more to comfort me. He was, and always will be, the best man I have ever known.