On the first day of my fiftieth year… my husband’s family began arriving for the funeral and memorial service for his grandmother. It was a bittersweet day as many gathered to honour her — to pay their respects, laugh, cry, look at photographs, reminisce, sift through treasures and memories and to lay to rest a woman who’d spent her whole life toiling for the Lord and for those He brought across her path. At nearly one-hundred years old — twice my age — she had lived a very full, very rich life. However, by many standards, “rich” might not have…