From the album Pretty Good Therapy

This song is about my wife Wendy being diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer and then the 364 days that we had together after that.

Lyrics

It's hard to accept it, it's hard to believe
when that doctor said, "just a few months to live"
We made up our mind, to hope for the best
and make every day, better than the last

When your'e going thru somethin, sometimes it's a blur
Was it her or me? sometimes I wasn't sure
Seems like everything slowed down, but it went by so fast
Did we made every day, better than the last?

I took her hand
and she took mine
we walked it out
one day at a time
and in the end
we knew we were blessed
cuz we made every day
better than the last


If you've got somebody, that you call your own
never forget that, someday they might be gone
Cherish each moment, don't dwell on the past
try to make every day, better than the last

THERE IS A FUTURE, this I believe
after the goodbye, after the grief
THERE IS A FOREVER, that will swallow up the past
and there every day is, better than the last

He took my hand hand
and I realized
I need to keep
my eye on the prize
I wake up each mornin
and to this I hold fast
try to make every day
better than the last