Jeff, my husband, had disappeared into the woods four years before. I was left with only memories and unsolved questions. Scout, our old family dog, came back on a sunny Saturday afternoon with a torn green jacket in his mouth. It was the same jacket Jason was wearing the day he went missing.
I still remember the day Jason left. He was excited to go on a walk by himself and get back in touch with nature. We had been having trouble with his sadness, and I was hoping that this trip would help him. Before leaving, he scratched Scout’s ears. Our kids laughed, not knowing that their dad would never come back.
After that, the days were a blur of search groups, last-ditch efforts, and false dreams. As the weeks and months went by, it became clear that Jason had been missing. The search teams gave up in the end, leaving me to put my broken life back together.
My mind kept telling me that Jason was still out there, waiting to be found, even though I tried to move on. His old climbing boots, his favourite coffee mug, and the wool scarf he loved to wear were just a few of the little things that made me think of him.
That is, until one normal Saturday afternoon, when everything changed. Scout, our family dog, came out of the woods with Jason’s jacket in his mouth. I was shocked and didn’t know what to think about this quick change. But when I saw Scout’s tired eyes, I knew I had to follow him and see where he led me.
Following Scout into the bush, I felt both fear and hope as I searched for the truth I had been looking for for a long time.
