As I sit here and write this, I have a lot of apprehension. I am not a person who talks to a lot of people about my problems, the one person that I did talk to has been gone for nearly six months, and the silence is deafening. Clint, my husband of 24 years, passed away from colorectal cancer on October 07,2019. He was only 43 years old. He fought a hard and painful battle with cancer for six years. The doctors only gave him two years at the most when he was diagnosed. In that respect we were lucky and my children and I had four extra years with him. Clint was determined to see our youngest child, Fisher, graduate and he did four months before he died. Clint and I were married when we were teenagers. I met him when I was 17 and he was 19, it did not take me long to fall in love with this huge heart and we were married three months later. A year after we married, our oldest son Hunter was born. Our life was perfect. The following year we had a beautiful daughter, Vanessa, and the following year we were blessed with another son, Fisher. Six months after Fisher was born, May 24, 2000, our oldest son, Hunter drowned and died. At that time, my world crumbled around me. I spiraled into a hole that I never thought I could dig myself out of. My guilt and grief was so encompassing that I wanted to leave my life, my husband and remaining children so that they would not be hurt by me. Clint would not let me do that. His love and patience helped me to crawl out of my dark hole and brought me back to some form of life that I could manage. A short while after that, our daughter, Vanessa, was in a horrific accident and nearly died as well. It was then that I realized that I could have easily lost her, and for a year and a half, I had pushed her away. It was then that I found my purpose, to help others by becoming a respiratory therapist. I learned that a an RT, I would be on the frontline, in the ER when patients were brought in. I would be capable of either saving lives or being there with the parents that have lost their children to offer comfort and assure them that everything was done to save them. When I had set my mind to go back to school, Clint supported me in every way possible and the times that I thought that I could not do it, his belief in me made me believe that I could move mountains with him by my side, encouraging and loving me. After I graduated, he continued to support me and encourage me. When I had patients that broke my heart, I never confided in my colleagues or teammates, I went home and would talk to Clint about it and he would hold me and let me vent all of my anger and frustrations and then remind me why I loved my job so much and that without me there, a lot of my patients could have worse outcomes or their families would have always wondered if everything had been done to save their loved ones. After Vanessa's accident, we moved on with our lives for the next decade. We had grown into a routine as most families do believing that out fair share of tragedy was behind us and all that we could do was move forward and love each other as much as we can. That was until June 13, 2013 and Clint was diagnosed with stage 4, terminal colorectal cancer, he was 37 years old and in seemingly perfect health. I was blown away, it killed me trying to imagine life without him. I made sure that he had the best doctors, I spoke to any oncologist that I came across. I was determined to not give up and to try to keep him with me as long as I could, I was willing to try anything. When he was diagnosed, the oncologists said that he would live only two years and that was being generous due to his age. After his diagnosis, I was working two full time jobs, trying to pay all of the bills and make sure he had the best medical care that he could get. We were raising our two children and trying to help them come to terms with the worse case scenario. During all of this, he was planning his funeral so that the kids and I would not have to suffer through it. He had even designed and had placed a headstone for us at the cemetery next to our son. All of this time, we were hoping for the best but preparing for the worst, again, thinking that we have had out fair share of crap, never thinking to look at other things that could compound on top of everything else. We were trying to cherish every last minute that we had with Clint. It was November 30, 2018, that I learned to stop thinking that we would eventually get a break from tragedy. That was the day that our 19 year old son was diagnosed with gastric cancer, four months later, our 20 year old daughter was diagnosed with gastric cancer as well. The time that we should have been spending as a family was torn away again and again by cancer. I was petrified, scared, and exhausted. I did not know what to do. In January 2019, Fisher had his stomach removed and in May 2019, Vanessa had hers removed as well. The summer of 2019 was spent trying to get them well. On October 7, 2019, Clint passed away at home. I feel that I have been cheated by God and cancer. Cheated of the chance to spend the last days of his life with him. I feel so guilty that I did not have the time to hold him one more time and have one last meaningful conversation with him so that he could help me try to reason all of this out in my head. Throughout the last 6 years of this nightmare, I believed that I had already endured the worst pain that you can imagine when I lost my son..... I was wrong. When you lose the other half of your soul, your confidant, best friend and supporter for over half of your life, there are no words to describe the pain, the loss and the isolation. I am angry, overwhelmed and exhausted. I feel as if I am anxious all of the time. I don't talk to anyone about it, I keep all of it bottled up inside. It has reached the point that last week I drove 800 miles and two states away so that I could sit and talk to a headstone for two days with no resolution to my conflicts. I am sorry that this post is so long. As I said in the beginning, I am not comfortable talking about these things to someone other than Clint. I feel that if I did not get it all out, I never will. How are you all handling this and moving on with your lives? I an at a loss at how to do it.