The suitcase has been half unpacked and my purple cocktail dress is draped across the growing pile of clothes on the sofa in our bedroom (I’ve got some beige heels somewhere, but I couldn’t’ tell you where they’ve gone). I have a popped blister on my left foot, and my hair is an unwashed bird’s nest from all that hairspray I tried to use that ultimately did nothing.

This is going to be a very quick post because of all the things that need doing, including lunch being made.

Here is what I want to say.

This past weekend we attended a wedding of a friend and his beautiful wife. These weddings amoungst my friends are fantastic. They are first class celebrations of love, connections and reuniting. I’m so glad to be part of that happiness.

Anyhow, you know how it goes at weddings. The bride and groom have their first dance, and not long after the dance floor becomes deserted as people attend to the bar in order to work up ‘courage’. And that’s all fair enough.

But I have an MRI on Tuesday.

It’s weird to say that. And maybe you don’t see the connection? I have a MRI on Tuesday to make sure there’s no cancer in my body.

And this past Saturday evening, there was an empty dance floor. Do you see the connection yet?

When it comes to weddings, along with all the lovely conversation, dresses, and food – I choose to DANCE. I need to DANCE. Zsolt and I must DANCE.

It’s a strange thing to say, and quite possibly in my head, but I feel like there’s this very thin veil between me and my old high-school friends. It has a whole lot to do with having had cancer, fighting cancer, worrying over cancer.  You know?

When I dance with my husband at weddings, I’m doing it (despite the quality of the music) because I’m alive and capable of moving, because I’m here now and tomorrow holds no promises, and because it makes me so happy to dance and be goofy.

Actually, thinking about this – I’m underestimating the experiences of many of my friends. I know some of them have faced things I’m yet to encounter, and felt things that are just as deeply impacting. Love, loss, life, distance, heart-break, illness, fatigue, divorce, birth, death  . . . Jesus! I just realized that as a group, we’ve seen a lot.

So maybe everyone does get it – and that’s why, by the end of the night, everyone is dancing.

Anyhow, I’ve got to go and make this soup. But all that to say that when it comes to wedding, I’ve got to dance. One the light side it makes me laugh, and looking deeper, it makes me feel alive.

Okay, time for lunch. And maybe a shower to follow!