I am on the verge of tears watching Danny sleep peacefully and happily in his new big-boy bed, surrounded by comfy covers and his favorite snuggly items. I am choked up by the sight of Joey's two missing front teeth, that smile that shows one big tooth struggling to emerge, the way his tongue slips through that big opening when he says his friend's name -- Catherine -- with the sweetest little lisp.

My boys' milestones have always warmed my heart. Walking behind Joey as he learned to ride his bike with training wheels was a joyous rite of passage. Watching my little boy from behind as he propelled himself forward on our neighborhood sidewalk will be forever etched in my mind. This was before breast cancer, though. Now, after breast cancer, every step my boys take hits me like a ton of bricks.

Breast cancer has turned my heart to mush. I consider it a good thing -- the depth of feeling I experience over every-day matters. I feel more grateful, thankful, and touched by life in general and by my family in particular.

I credit nearly losing everything to my increased sensitivity and softness to the world around me. Life is fragile. I know that now. And for this, I have seven simple words: I promise I will never forget it.