There was a catch in her voice. “Do you know any Scripture I could read to the dying, you know, for comfort?” I told her I would check with the pastor, and get back to her, although I knew I could Google it. Google tells all. All except how to sit by the side of your dying daughter and think about life without her. All except how to live one’s few remaining years without her who used to be your future, the one who would have told sweet stories at your funeral, settled your estate and gone to the cemetery to leave flowers.