Dressed in my diamondbacks nightshirt, we danced, slowly in circles. George crooned "your something special to me." Dancing closer than any church dance would allow. That's what you do when the smoke clears. You hold on a little tighter. You say I love you more. Your heart is a little more thankful. You don't take for granted the little things they take care of. You dance, if even for a little bit, when the smoke clears.