This evening I was trying out a new recipe, slow dancing around the kitchen, and thinking about the best advice I could possibly give to a friend newly diagnosed with cancer. Every time I think about our journey, I feel differently and remember different things. Tonight, for whatever reason, I found myself focusing upon all the romantic moments. You might think those wouldn’t exist, in the bright white lights, with nurses barging in unexpectedly and incessant IV beeping. But, there were so many days and days on end with mainly only each other’s company. And in those days, there were so many moments that were just ours. We probably far more moments together just the two of us than we would have had under normal circumstances. And some of those moments are moments that I would not let go of or trade in. Moments walking around the floor together, IV pole in between us, holding hands. Moments where we successfully took on a doctor who refused to discharge us and managed to win. Moments where we buried ourselves in a fort of hospital sheets to have the pretense of privacy. Moments where we snuck off the wing and danced a few waltz steps and a few spins. So many moments looking into each other’s eyes and knowing that we just loved each other too much to give it up.