The reality is beyond imagination, the heartbreak universal. Just over a week ago two young boys, twins, used their combined mobility and resources to make their way past a safety gate and two closed doors to get into their parents' bathroom. They weren't out of sight for long, just long enough to step on the plug in the sunken bathtub, turn on the water, and drown.

Despite the efforts of family members, friends, and emergency personnel, the fifteen-month-old twins never regained consciousness and passed away early the next morning.

The news felt so unreal, especially in those first hours as the parents arrived back at their home after spending the night at the hospital. Each new arrival seemed to invoke a fresh wave of tears as friends and family mourned together.

The shock of this unimaginable tragedy was huge, the outpouring of love and support immediate. Friends, neighbors, and family members created a constant stream of visitors in the family's home. Support came from around the country, even from around the world, as frequent trips were made to pick people up from local airports.

As the hours and days passed, I was privileged to be on hand as the family moved through one detail after another. I wasn't a family member or a best friend. I hadn't known the twins well, nor had I frequented the family's new home often. Rather, I was simply a longtime family friend that could be a constant.

On occasion a family member would ask me why I was always on hand or how I had come to be intimately involved in funeral details. The answer wasn't easy to provide because I wasn't sure myself. I had more experience than most in dealing with funerals, some expected, some not. I have always been that person that was one step back, able to be the voice of reason as those around me tried to pick up the pieces of their lives after a devastating loss.

My compensation for my service was knowing that the parents' wishes were being honored and seeing the people around them help them move through the shock of their loss. Repeatedly, the parents expressed their overwhelming gratitude to those who had given them so much love and support during this difficult time. At one point, the father told me, "There are no words to express our appreciation for all you've done."

Late that night I returned home where my four children were already in bed. During this whole ordeal, I have been one step back from the family as they have mourned their loss, yet I often was a visible support and received thanks from many who came by to pay their condolences. My husband has been yet another step back, quietly supporting me, without question, without acknowledgement, and without thanks. That night, I sat beside him and passed along my thanks that he was willing to serve in the shadows from one step back.