I was not going to say anything, but it doesn’t seem right to let the day go as if it was just another day.

On February 9^th, 2019, I lost my husband to cancer. If you were still here with me, today we would be celebrating 54 years of marriage. I feel blessed he married me. He was not perfect, but neither am I, however, we raised four boys. I am so proud of my sons.

One of the things I am grateful for, and you might say I am selfish, but my husband never forbid from doing the things I enjoyed. As long as I remembered I was married. That was never a problem because I have always respected the sanctity of marriage.

I do regret we did not do more tings together to build memories. When I used to tell him how important it was for us to create memories, It as for us to share together when we were and sitting in our rocking chairs. I didn’t think I would be alone without him, and not enough memories.

My husband was not active in outside activities. We occasional went to outside activities, but he preferred watching sports, and playing cards with his friends.

I miss him yelling out the TV or jumping up in excitement when he and his best friend won the whist game.

Robert was a friendly and he made friends very easily. Anyone he met immediately became his friend. He was fun loving and easy going. He was 6’3’ and weighted about 240. He was raised in Louisiana and worked as a sharecropper until he came to California at the age of twenty. He could have been a model on the romance book covers. He was very well built from working on a farm most of his life and helping raise his brothers and sisters.

Robert worked hard to take care of his family, and the end of the day he came home. I never had to wonder where his check went, because he always gave it to me, and ask for what he thought he needed till the next payday. And no, I did not start him to doing that. He did that on his own before we were even married.

I know I am rambling, but I feel a need to speak about him. The first time they discovered he had cancer; he would not have told me had I not been there with him.

I had discovered by accident, that they thought he had a tumor they wanted to remove. He was going to have the operation and not tell me. His reasoning, there was noting I could do but worry.

Our sons were understandably upset, and we were all there for him, only to learn it was not a tumor, but cancer. The doctor told us it was cancer, and he had about six months to live.

My husband being the man he was, looked at the doctor and said, Until the man upstairs tells me my time is up, I don’t accept your diagnosis.” I believe because he made that declaration of faith, he took the aggressive treatments and lived to see another eleven years.

When the cancer returned, it came suddenly, and we knew it was different this time. Even though he told them he wanted the aggressive treatments again, he was not able to. His blood pressure and heart rate remained high. They finally said after his last visit, that wanted to put him in hospice care.

Of course, he refused. He wanted his final days to be in his bed. All the kids, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren were there for him. He was blessed to be surrounded by his family. He was blessed to know how much they loved him and what he meant to them. I could not have been prouder of them around his bed, not for one day but everyday they were there.

The morning of February 9^th, my grandson, the nurse, and me were trying to move him back to the middle of the bed so he wouldn’t fall on the floor. We had gotten him situated when I noticed his eyes rolling to the back of his head. In panic, I asked the nurse why his eyes had rolled back.

The nurse turned from what she was doing to look in his direction then said, “I’m so sorry. We’re losing him.” She checked his vitals, then looked her at her watch. “I’m sorry, he’s gone.” She then reported his death, and I asked if they could pick him up later that day so his family and friends could pay their last respect to him.

I am so sorry. I had not meant to write all of this. It just came out. I guess I needed to release it from my mind. I’m starting to ramble, so I am going to call it quits for now.

Until tomorrow, stay safe, and keep the faith.