It was the night after we found out Deb's cancer was not only not gone but was spreading. We were lying in bed together, and I was holding her.
"You know," I said, "and I don't want this to sound wrong, but even with you being sick, this has been the best two years of my life."
"Mine too," she said, "even though I could've done without being sick."
I've always been glad I said what I said, and that she said what she said. There's no better way we could've summed up our marriage.
