We never failed to be optimistic. She once put it best: since there was only a 5% chance for a five year survival (or better), why can't she be in that 5%?

That was my Denise. Always hopeful, never pollyanna. A month or so ago, she grabbed my hand and told me how sorry she was, that she just couldn't believe she was putting me through all this. Knowing that I lost my mom and dad to cancer and leukemia, she said that if she had been able to predict this was going to happen, she would have never married me. Through my tears, I told her that the last 20 years with her made me the happiest man in the universe, and no disease could ever change that. Smiling, she told me that she was so peaceful because as a believer, she knew where she was going. But she hated to leave the rest of us behind.

In fact, she was never afraid. Denise never complained, nor did she wonder why this woman with a lifetime of good health would suddenly get so sick. As she said, "Why me? Well, why not me?"

I'm not really that brave. I have to admit to asking God, "Why her?" on a pretty regular basis. I find myself feeling pretty sorry for myself these days. The person that I would rather be with more than anyone else in the world has left me. Once in awhile, the grief kind of takes me by surprise and I feel panicky, like I can't catch my breath. Our four adult sons who always relied on their Mama for guidance and wisdom are now stuck with dumb old me. Her Mom and Dad had to attend their only daughter's memorial service. And our friends who loved her so very much now have to live without this special woman in their lives.

One day, I'll understand all of this. Some day, I'll get to hold her again.

For now, I'll just try and live the way she taught me to. When my kids ask me about a girlfriend problem, I'll try to imagine what Denise would say. When I'm overwhelmingly sad, I'll try and think about our happiest times together, like strolling hand in hand through one of her favorite places, Disney World or New York City. Or maybe my absolute favorite moment, on any given Saturday morning when we just loved running errands together. For us, going to Target was a blast.

I will never figure out a way to thank people for their overwhelming kindness. Total strangers have poured out their hearts to me and reached out to my family in ways I never imagined possible. Through my devastating sadness, I have been touched deeply by the kindness of so many.

And my message to them: live life the way my Denise did. Hold your family close. Treasure your child's laugh, your wife's tender brush of your hand. When you're tempted to argue about something, think for a moment about what your life would be like without the person you promised to spend a lifetime with.

Believe me, it's not fun.

And my message to Tony right about now? Please be patient with my Denise while trying to explain the wisdom of conservatism. Lord knows I tried, Tony. I really tried. She's going to drive you crazy.

But her heart is in the right place. And she loved her husband, her sons, her parents, and her many friends so very much. It's that love that I carry in my heart that keeps me going right now. Just like I know the love you had, Tony, for Jill, Kendall, Robbie, and Kristi will keep them strong, too.

Like most married couples, Denise and I had a bunch of little rituals. One of mine was to say the exact same thing every single night that we turned out the lights to go to bed. I literally didn't sleep very well if I didn't say it to her.

"Good night, my princess. Sleep safe."