Easter Changed Our Family Forever

From the outside, Easter at my parents’ house looked like something out of a magazine.

The dining table was covered with my mother’s favorite spring tablecloth. The smell of roasted ham filled the house, children laughed in the backyard, and sunlight poured through every window. Anyone walking past would have thought we were the perfect family.

The truth was very different.

My wife, Marianne, had spent the entire morning helping everyone else. She set the table, checked the food, refilled drinks, and made sure my father—still recovering from surgery—never had to ask for anything.

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That was simply who she was.