It was Sunday morning and my husband’s birthday. Only four months earlier he had left me for heaven. In the first stages of grief, I remained seated while the congregation sang. The dark cloud of heaviness had pushed aside my joy in worship–or in much else. Head down, I stared at the floor. Soon another person stood beside me. Immediately I recognized my daughter’s feet. Knowing it would be a difficult day for me, Joy and Aaron had decided to join me.