At the start of this letter I referred to Lynn as my husband and he was, in every sense of the word. A wonderful husband. The only thing is, we never "got married" legally.

But what did it matter in this day and age? We were happy and our marital status was none of anyone's business.

HA! I'd learn later just how much it is the business of someone else, someone who couldn't possibly know how happy we were. Nor did they care. As much as Lynn was a wonderful husband to me, he was in every way a wonderful father to my son...our son.

Our nightmare started in the early spring of '95 when Lynn started experiencing pain in his shoulder and groin. He reluctantly went to the nearest VA hospital. Prostate was fine, but he did have a hernia and probably a pulled muscle in his shoulder. This was not surprising, as he was a hard worker and never stopped. He finally agreed to hernia surgery, but would have to wait until school was out in May so our son could help with chores. (Me, being the china doll in his eyes..couldn't do them alone *S*)

The surgery went fine. It was done on an outpatient basis because Lynn wouldn't agree to stay away from home overnight. (We'd never been apart more than a few hours.) But the shoulder pain radiated to the back, and the groin pain never really went away. Back to the hospital.

The chest X-ray was "good for a man of your age and lifestyle", but another hernia surgery was scheduled. That elimainated the groin pain, but because of the back and shoulder pain, Lynn did less and less work. His appetite decreased and he lost weight.

Not having power or a phone made everyday tasks a little harder and a little slower, but this was okay. We'd learned to do without, and it was just another small obstacle to overcome.

Our generator blew up in May, so for the entire summer we hauled water in 55 gallon drums. We had no garden: there was just enough water for the animals and ourselves. Our son and I picked up the slack in physical work. We knew this was a temporary set-back with Lynn. As soon as he was well we'd be back to normal. Lynn just never got sick. In his words, "I don't have time to be sick."

The pulled muscle in his shoulder was now affecting his breathing, and his chest was tight. We looked for a chiropractor we could afford. After two visits, his chest started to loosen up, to the point of sounding a little wet and croupy. Pneumonia? He wasn't worried , so I tried not to be.

On October 13, 1995, I took Lynn to the VA hospital. He only wanted to be there overnight so they could do what ever it is they do to help you breathe, and the next day he would be home with his family.

I went to the hospital the next day to pick him up. They would not release him. Something to do with an antibiotic, and they had him on IV. And on the 16th, they transferred him to Phoenix, 100 miles away.

Our bliss came to a screeching halt.Cancer... and he was in stage 4: terminal.

This couldn't be! Why, just a few days ago he was fine, except for a pain in his chest and back. He was supposed to get better!

He was in Phoenix, 100 miles away, with no phone. We'd never been apart, and to be honest, I'd forgotten how. I did my chores and went to the hospital after our son got home from school. Even at this point it never occurred to either of us that Lynn might die.

I know what you're saying. The doctors told us it was terminal, but you don't know my Lynn. He was a hard-headed Scottsman and in his own words was too ornery to die. There's a certain comfort in trusting the one you love, and believe me, I trusted Lynn completely...to the point of not using my own judgement. He was not going to die. I had no reason not to believe him.

In all this uproar, it never occurred to us to reinstate his life insurance policy, nor did it strike us to legally get married. We never thought of ourselves as not married. Nor did it occur to us that Lynn was not Matthew's legal father.

Lynn left VA on October 26, 1995, and we began looking at alternative methods of dealing with cancer. We were not happy with what traditional medicine had to offer. He had 10 radiation treatments and decided it was not for him.