On Wednesday Morning, 30th of November 2022, my wife Queenie was taken out of ICU to the room where, three days later, she would die .

When Queenie saw me waiting. She grabbed me and spoke her last words on earth:  “I'm so glad I’ve got you back. I love you!”

Queenie didn’t leave “I love you” unsaid.

Contest Master Toastmasters

On Sunday morning three days earlier for the first time in Queenie’s two year war with ovarian cancer, we were separated . Tragically, we both had COVID and had been isolated together in a small room in the hospital. But that Sunday Queenie had to be rushed to ICU, And me, I was kicked out the hospital.

The separation - devastating.

Home alone that Sunday night. Queenie’s doctor, doctor Huang called and said:

“Paul, I know we thought Queenie was getting better, but I'm so sorry your Queenie only has a few days left.”

My world - shattered!

The next time I saw Queenie was two days later on Tuesday morning.

In the ICU room Queenie was lying in  bed behind a glass wall. Nobody could go inside! She was alone! Frail! Scared! And yet, she was trying so hard to smile, to be positive, to be happy!

Cancer could shrink her body: but it couldn’t steal her smile, kill her spirit, destroy her soul.

I asked her doctor: “When can I take her home.”

He replied: “I’m sorry Paul. Never!”

I simply said: “Queenie will not die alone. Either I  go into that room or you figure something out. The next time I see Queenie I will be with her.”

For two years we had been rushing from hospital to hospital, treatment to treatment, doctor to doctor doing everything we could. And now there was nothing more I could do.

That night, devastated, my friend Eric told me: “Paul, there is one thing left to do: think about what you want to say to Queenie so you don’t leave anything unsaid.”

Yes! He was right! There was one thing left to do: To speak. To speak from my heart to her heart!

To use my voice, my words to speak light into darkness, strength into weakness, hope into absolute despair!

On that Wednesday Morning, after Queenie told me she loved me, we were taken to another isolation room. Queenie would never speak again.

But in that room I said four things to her over and over and over again.

First: Hope. I reminded Queenie of the hope of heaven she had as Christian. Since she believed in her heart that Jesus was raised from the dead and confessed with her tongue that Jesus was Lord, she would be in heaven. Eternity was hers!

Second. Love. I thanked Queenie for loving me these 23 years. For the privilege of being her husband. I told her how much I loved her and that I would continue to love her to end of time. To the very edge of eternity.

Third: Memory. I told Queenie I would remember her forever - with every beat of my heart and with every breath I take. Forever. Her legacy of love, kindness and gentleness would live on. And everyone who knows me, would know who she was.

Fourth. Promise. I promised Queenie that when my day is done and my time has come here on earth I will find her again in heaven. For the first time in 20 years, she would have to go ahead of me. But I promised I would come and find her.

Hope. Love. Memory. Promise - I didn’t leave anything unsaid.

On Thursday before she died, her family, her friends - you started to call, to send voice messages. I  played those messages of hope, memory, love over and over and over. You too didn’t leave anything unsaid.

What about you? What do you need to tell the people you love?

For Queenie, if she could, I know she would want to thank you - her family, her friends, her fellow Toastmasters for all the love, support and encouragement you gave. She wouldn’t want “thank you” to be left unsaid.

So on behalf of Queenie - thank you - thank you for loving my Queenie  - thank you for loving my wife - thank you for supporting us both these past two years. Thank you.

Saturday Morning.  3 December. Queenie would die. At 5:00 am I got in the bed with her. I held her for six hours.  Reassuring her. Telling her I love her.

At 11 o'clock, when I saw her getting weaker I simply asked her:

“Are you afraid?”

She said: “Uh-uh”

Next, I asked her:

“Do you know that I love you?”

She said: “A-ha”

Between us, nothing was left unsaid. We said goodbye in the right way! And because of it, in the 140 days since she died, even though I am broken, instead of regret I have found peace.

What about you? What do you need to tell the people you love? Whatever it is, don’t leave it unsaid!

Back in the bed, I took her small, frail body in my arms one last time and held her tight.

At 11:20 am when I saw her life fade away, I simply said:

I love you. I love you. I love you.

To the end of time Queenie, I love you.