On the sweetness of Mormon life.

You kneel across the altar in the temple. You and your wife, as proxies for your grandfather and grandmother, serve to seal your father and your aunts to their father and their mother, in eternal family ties. It has been a long time coming; you feel the years around you.

On the temple grounds afterwards, your wife shares around apple cider she pressed fresh that morning, from apples you and your daughters picked from your father’s trees.