I am someone I’ve never expected to be. I am a widow. On August 3 my husband, Ed, the love of my life, passed on to eternity in Heaven.

Ed had been diagnosed on February 27 with having Clear Cell Renal Cell Carcinoma that had metastasized. He had tumors everywhere painfully accompanied by broken bones. He had arthritis and had contributed his pain mainly to that.

Ten days prior to his diagnosis I noticed that he had a swelling on the left side of his abdomen. This was the first sign that something more was involved. He called the doctor the next day and his appointment was set for March 1, just 9 days away.

He had a chiropractor appointment on February 27, which happened to be the day before my birthday. When the chiropractor came into the room, Ed mentioned the swelling I found. He told Ed to leave there and go immediately to the hospital. Ed mentioned that he had an appointment with his PCP in two days, but he repeated, “Go to the hospital immediately.”

Ed left the office and called to say he would be picking me up and we would be going to the hospital. At the hospital they quickly examined him and then took him for a CT scan. Before long, the doctor returned to the room and gave us the news.

Interestingly, neither of us panicked or cried. Ed said his first thought was that he was going to go on a trip. My first thought was that all of our days are numbered.

I stayed with him at the hospital for a few hours, then he sent me home to get him a few necessities and to get some sleep. He would call me when they had a room for him at Allegheny General Hospital in Pittsburgh.

The call came early the next morning and I was able to arrive in time to follow the transport ambulance to what would be his temporary home for the next week.

Tests confirmed that the cancer had spread throughout his body and causing bones everywhere to be broken, including in his spine and his rib cage. Fortunately, it had not gone to his brain, but was later found to be in his skull.

His illness progressed quickly and the immunotherapy and radiation treatments were unsuccessful. He spent time at home, only returning to the hospital for one day. He did not want to die in a hospital. It was very difficult watching him quickly weaken while his pain level rapidly increased. It wouldn’t be long. But there could never be enough time.

Through this downward progression, we said just about everything we could ever want or need to say to each other. We laughed, cried, prayed, kissed, and gave each other the best life we could possibly give for what little time we had.

I remember the events of the morning of August 3 but not much after about 11:10 when Hospice arrived and officially pronounced, even though he had actually breathed his last about 30 minutes prior to that. I remember little more about that day and not too much of the next.

Thankfulness is not a word I would normally assign to the day my beloved died, but, in the midst of my overwhelming sadness, that is what I’ve felt. Thankfulness to God: for not letting this gentle man hurt any more; for assigning a friend to be with me in those last moments; for the friends who were there to hold me in their arms and in their hearts; for allowing my brain to be put on hold so as not to have to relive those first moments without him.

But mostly, I am thankful for the more than 32 years I was graced and honored to be Ed’s wife.

And now, the new role of widow begins for me. I am not so good at this. I have no idea how to do this but I know God has got me right there in the palm of his hands, as he always has.

For that, I am thankful.