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LUCY Kelsall, 35, is director of the Salvation Army and lives in Newport, Gwent.
Here, she reveals how her husband David, who died of throat cancer, wrote to him from beyond the grave.
"Sitting for a first proper lunch for the first time since my husband David, 45, died of throat cancer, I tried to ignore the feeling of nausea in my stomach. It was only a month and I still found it impossible to function normally.
"While pouring my cereals without enthusiasm, a piece of paper fell into my bowl. A shiver ran through my spine when I noticed the familiar writing. It was a note from David saying that he would love me forever.
"We met for the first time at a local rehabilitation center in South Wales. In 2005, after fighting a drug problem, I was sent back to the position of center manager. Six years later, David entered as an alcoholic. We both felt an instant spark, but there were strict rules about the relationship between staff and patients, so only when David finally recovered in November could we finally be together.
"We became inseparable and after two years we moved in together, got married and started trying to have a baby. But one day in early 2014, David, who was working as a support worker at the rehabilitation center, started complaining of a sore throat.
"After visiting the general practitioner, David was initially diagnosed with silent acid reflux and medication, but in July, he was admitted to the hospital for tests after finding a lump in his neck. Two weeks later, he was diagnosed with throat cancer.
"I felt paralyzed by the fear of losing my husband and I could say that David was also scared. I had recently discovered that I was expecting a baby, so we tried to focus on this incredible news, but only two weeks after David's diagnosis, I had a miscarriage. It was as if everything was shattering at the seams.
"Despite an exhausting chemotherapy regimen, many radiation treatments, and a throat dissection to remove her lymph nodes, whenever doctors were fighting part of David's cancer, another mbad would appear elsewhere. In total, he developed five throat tumors in four years.
"In a desperate attempt to conquer cancer for good, David had his voice box and larynx removed in February 2016. He had always illuminated the room with his positive attitude and talkative nature; to lose the power to speak was therefore a devastating blow.
"Without voice, he started writing love notes to express what he was feeling. They appeared in unexpected places: in the car, in the living room or under my pillow if he knew he had spent the night in the hospital. Whenever I found one, my heart was missing a beat.
"For a few months, we almost forgot about David's cancer, but in September 2017, the cancer came back aggressively. The tumor was wrapped around an artery so that surgeons could not remove it. On December 10, David was rushed to hospital after the blood began to flow from his mouth. Tragically, the doctors told us that the cancer had spread to his lungs and that they could do nothing more. I burst into tears as David hugged me.
"We had a room at the local Marie Curie Hospice where we could live together the last precious days of David. For six days we watched movies and cuddled in silence. He did not have the strength to write anymore, but the last thing he did consciously was playing Elvis Presley's Can not Help game from his phone.
"On December 22, 2017, David pbaded away peacefully. My heart broke and I spent weeks sobbing at home. The friends and family were incredibly helpful, but I was devastated. The first morning, I managed to get myself out of bed. I found David's word in my bowl of Rice Krispies.
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"When reading his words of love, I had the impression that he was always close to me. I avoided sorting out his stuff, but, desperate to find out if he had left more notes, I rushed to the drawer of his desk.
"By opening it, my eyes filled with tears at the sight of the cards that were sent to me for Valentine's Day, our birthday and my birthday. Over the next few weeks, I came across David's love notes and poems inside books, hidden in my wardrobe and in various handbags.
"Even now, every time I read one of David's notes, I remember that he will always be with me one way or another. We froze her sperm before her treatment, so I get IVF to try to get her baby. Since then, I moved and I do not know if I'll ever find another note from him, but who knows? I will never stop hoping. "
BTW
- Marie Curie nurses provide 1.2 million nursing hours each year.
- In Cecelia Ahern's novel P.S. I love you the main character Holly receives letters from her deceased husband.
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