It was supposed to be a joyful day. It had meant so much to be here for her youngest daughter’s wedding. The wig didn‘t fit well-it didn’t look like her hair. The wheelchair seemed to overtake the room. Still, she had her husband push her up the ramp, the unity candle lit in her pale, shaking hands. She smiled at the groom’s beautiful, healthy mother as they took their candles, and touched them to the wick of the larger candle. Together, the flames united their families forever-a word she couldn’t even dream of. She was smiling at her daughter, so beautiful, as the sanctuary doors opened. She had made it. The joy flowed through her tears.