When my precious wife, Kay, died 30 years ago I took a leave of absence from my pastorate and went home to Greenback, Tennessee. About two weeks after Kay's death, I went back to the little bridge where we were married in Maryville, Tennessee. I went there in a desperate attempt to try to figure out how I was going to find the will to go on living without her. I stood on the bridge and thought about our wedding day and all the good times we had shared during our seven years together. I also tried to figure out what I might have done differently, or better, that may have allowed me to save her...