by Douglas Samuelson

Created on: September 07, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

It has been 23 years since my wife died of pancreatic cancer, but I will never forget that fateful day when her doctor told us that she had 9 months to live.

We had been married for 26 years. Our two sons were grown and lived in other cities. Our eldest son was married and we had two lovely little grand-daughters. We both had good jobs and we had a beautiful new home. Everything seemed to be right on target.

For several months she had been experiencing a health issue. Her appetite was poor and she complained of indigestion whenever she ate certain foods. Her doctor suspected a gall-bladder problem, and anti-acid medication seemed to provide her with relief.

In mid-summer of the first year of her ailment, she attended a confrence in another state. She travelled by car with another woman and her husband to the conference. Near the end of the conference she called me and told me that she was going return home by plane because the car trip had been very uncomfortable. I was at the airport to pick her up when she arrived.

When I watched her come down the ramp from the plane I knew at that moment that something was drastically wrong. She had experienced a slight weight loss over the past few months and as she exited the plane she looked very tired and did not have the normal twinkle in her eyes.

For the next several months she continued to consult her doctor and it was decided that her gall-bladder would have to be removed.

In February we went to Houston to spend a week with our youngest son. On Valentines evening we had dinner with our son and his girl-friend and my parents who were spending the winter in Texas. My wife was unable to eat any of her meal and she had begun to experience intermittent severe pain.

As we were preparing to get ready for bed on the night that we returned home from our trip, she began to cry and she told me that she feared that she was in trouble. She confessed that she wanted to quit her job which was rather stressful and she thought that this could be the cause of her problem. After a lengthy talk we agreed to list our home for sale, and that if we could sell our home. we would both quit our jobs and move to a warmmer climate. The next morning I called a Realtor friend and we met and agreed on a listing for our home

Two weeks later on a Sunday evening, we had invited a married couple to our home for dinner. After dinner we were playing cards with our friends and in the middle of the game my wife informed us that she could not continue with

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