It’s been 27 days since Obi took his last breath. It feels so far yet so close. Everyday I think about him, my mind drifts in all different directions. For those 27 days, and really, since his first cancer recurrence, I’ve thought about what I would say at his funeral. Just as it was hard to write each of our updates towards the end, it is just as hard to try and capture his life, my love, and his legacy in a few words. So know that I could talk endlessly about Obi. And I will! Anytime you’re ready to listen.

But for today, I look around and I’m at a loss for words as I see the love my little family is surrounded by. I wish Obi could see the amount of love, hugs, prayers, financial gifts, memories, and cards that have poured in. When Obi was on hospice, we talked about how he didn’t have to worry about me and the boys because we had formed the kind of community that would take good care of us. Even so, I think he would be in awe at the support we’ve received.

As I reflect on our... Read more life here in Seattle, you must know, this life we had was entirely manifested by Obi, and his willingness to say Yes to God in a time of confusion.

It was April 2011, and Obi was feeling incredibly stuck. He had graduated from UCLA, but was unable to find a steady job in LA. He was delivering for Pizza Hut to pay the bills, and a bit heartbroken because we were broken up. He had decided to pursue graduate school for urban planning, but took a while to say yes to moving to Seattle and committing to UW. The song Ghost, by Kid Kudi, came on during a drive. He loved the way music spoke to him. Music was a message from God, in his eyes. The most appropriate lyric would come at the most appropriate time, if only he stopped to listen and connect. These words I’m about to read are from a reflection he had after listening to the song lyric.

He wrote: “I feel like for years I have been living such a transient life. Constantly moving through different environments and spending brief amounts of time in the lives of others. Long enough to make some kind of impression, but short enough to seem fleeting nonetheless. I’m known to be late; to often make plans to meet up with two different groups of friends 50 miles apart in the same night, and then maybe hang out with my coworkers before or after. Yet still, the time spent in each location feels as though it’s fading in every instant. Now again I make plans to change location. But this time it’s a change with such an important purpose behind it, to me. Important in the sense that I feel in the years to come I must be able to establish myself as a man. To stand on my own two feet, network, make connections, make new friends, find a place to live, budget more efficiently (much more), and study like never before. Even I wonder how this will turn out. But I know that this is the time in which I must prove myself able to maintain, to persevere, and succeed. No more leisure and constant relaxing ,wasting my time away. I must make sure that these last 6 years have not been wasted, that these loans do not become a crippling burden, but rather a means to an end. An end that I have been reaching towards for years with nothing to show for it as of yet. Now to test my desire. I’ll be going a ghost, but God-willing, this time I’ll return a man. “

It’s a beautiful reflection on which to view the life he went on to create. He made deep life long friendships in grad school, found his way to his passion for creating affordable housing, got his loans forgiven!, and established himself as a man many look up to, and a man that three amazing boys get to call daddy. A God fearing man that was my safety, and my everything.

As I reflect on how Obi handled his suffering with cancer, I see the overflowing love he gave. And I reflect on how our faith centers around Jesus, whose greatest act of love was not spoken, but endured on the cross. Obi, in his suffering with this cruel disease, was constantly worried about having enough energy to play with the boys, being strong enough to pick up baby JJ, or take Eli out for a bike ride, or worried about his feeding tube getting in the way of hugging Sammy. He wanted to get back to work to help me with the budget, or handle the chores so I could have a rest. And towards the end, before entering hospice, he endured heightened pain from the cancer so the pain meds wouldn’t make him too drowsy to be present with the boys. Through his love and suffering, I believe Obi lived with a DEEP connection to the love of Christ, and he finished the race, landing in the arms of Christ.

Another song, one that spoke like a prayer to Obi, was Coming Up Easy by Paulo Nutini. The lyrics say “It was in love I was created and in love is how I hope I die.” And boy was he surrounded by love. On home hospice, our house flowed in and out with friends and family at all hours of the day. Our phones flooded with video messages, texts, emails, and memories shared on the Kudoboard. In his final days, he got sweet drawings and giggles from his boys, heard the laughter of his kids and his nephews playing at Christmas, and had 24/7 care from me, his siblings, his mom, my parents, friends, nurses, doctors, and received his last rites from Fr Paul before passing peacefully in his sleep at the hospital. Through all this, he was reminded over and over that his life was truly beautiful. Truly beautiful.

Now to my Eli, Sammy, and JJ: I want you to know that daddy’s life was beautiful, not because he had a lot of money, not because he was popular in school, not because he got all the gifts he wanted, and not because he knew all the answers or always knew what to do. His life was beautiful because he was thankful every day for every blessing that God gave him. He was thankful for the big special gifts, like you three boys, and the little gifts too like getting to see a sunset over the city, or having a favorite beanie that kept him warm in the winter. He tried his best to be kind to everyone around him, he said sorry every time he hurt someone, and he made sure to go to sleep each night believing he did all he could to settle any wrongs, and he woke up each morning thanking God for a new day. And he wanted more than ANYTHING to be here on Earth to keep helping you discover how to lead your OWN beautiful life. But since he knew the cancer was making his body stop working, Daddy made sure that you would still be surrounded by love and never be alone. Now that he is in Heaven, his spirit will be watching over you, and mommy and everyone who loves you will be the ones to help you figure this out.

As I try to close this out, I want to say, it has been the honor of a lifetime to be his wife. To care for him in his living, and in his dying. I wanted to share about a card I wrote Obi that he kept at his desk at work. I don’t know why he chose this one out of all other cards and pictures, but when I got it back after his desk was cleaned out, I read through it, and one line stood out. The card was from while we were dating, and I had said “I love that you are right beside me as we run this race towards our Heavenly Home.” I never thought that Obi would win the race. But I definitely feel some sense of accomplishment and pride knowing we lived exactly the way we had hoped we would - supporting each other, loving each other, until we made it to our Heavenly Home. And since he won that one, I’m now focusing on my newest goal - raising the family that will meet him at the gates of Heaven. Read less

It’s been 27 days since Obi took his last breath. It feels so far yet so close. Everyday I think about him, my mind drifts in all different directions. For those 27 days, and really, since his first cancer recurrence, I’ve thought about what I would say at his funeral. Just as it was hard to write each of our updates towards the end, it is just as hard to try and capture his life, my love, and his legacy in a few words. So know that I could talk endlessly about Obi. And I will! Anytime you’re ready... Read more to listen.

But for today, I look around and I’m at a loss for words as I see the love my little family is surrounded by. I wish Obi could see the amount of love, hugs, prayers, financial gifts, memories, and cards that have poured in. When Obi was on hospice, we talked about how he didn’t have to worry about me and the boys because we had formed the kind of community that would take good care of us. Even so, I think he would be in awe at the support we’ve received.

As I reflect on our life here in Seattle, you must know, this life we had was entirely manifested by Obi, and his willingness to say Yes to God in a time of confusion.

It was April 2011, and Obi was feeling incredibly stuck. He had graduated from UCLA, but was unable to find a steady job in LA. He was delivering for Pizza Hut to pay the bills, and a bit heartbroken because we were broken up. He had decided to pursue graduate school for urban planning, but took a while to say yes to moving to Seattle and committing to UW. The song Ghost, by Kid Kudi, came on during a drive. He loved the way music spoke to him. Music was a message from God, in his eyes. The most appropriate lyric would come at the most appropriate time, if only he stopped to listen and connect. These words I’m about to read are from a reflection he had after listening to the song lyric.

He wrote: “I feel like for years I have been living such a transient life. Constantly moving through different environments and spending brief amounts of time in the lives of others. Long enough to make some kind of impression, but short enough to seem fleeting nonetheless. I’m known to be late; to often make plans to meet up with two different groups of friends 50 miles apart in the same night, and then maybe hang out with my coworkers before or after. Yet still, the time spent in each location feels as though it’s fading in every instant. Now again I make plans to change location. But this time it’s a change with such an important purpose behind it, to me. Important in the sense that I feel in the years to come I must be able to establish myself as a man. To stand on my own two feet, network, make connections, make new friends, find a place to live, budget more efficiently (much more), and study like never before. Even I wonder how this will turn out. But I know that this is the time in which I must prove myself able to maintain, to persevere, and succeed. No more leisure and constant relaxing ,wasting my time away. I must make sure that these last 6 years have not been wasted, that these loans do not become a crippling burden, but rather a means to an end. An end that I have been reaching towards for years with nothing to show for it as of yet. Now to test my desire. I’ll be going a ghost, but God-willing, this time I’ll return a man. “

It’s a beautiful reflection on which to view the life he went on to create. He made deep life long friendships in grad school, found his way to his passion for creating affordable housing, got his loans forgiven!, and established himself as a man many look up to, and a man that three amazing boys get to call daddy. A God fearing man that was my safety, and my everything.

As I reflect on how Obi handled his suffering with cancer, I see the overflowing love he gave. And I reflect on how our faith centers around Jesus, whose greatest act of love was not spoken, but endured on the cross. Obi, in his suffering with this cruel disease, was constantly worried about having enough energy to play with the boys, being strong enough to pick up baby JJ, or take Eli out for a bike ride, or worried about his feeding tube getting in the way of hugging Sammy. He wanted to get back to work to help me with the budget, or handle the chores so I could have a rest. And towards the end, before entering hospice, he endured heightened pain from the cancer so the pain meds wouldn’t make him too drowsy to be present with the boys. Through his love and suffering, I believe Obi lived with a DEEP connection to the love of Christ, and he finished the race, landing in the arms of Christ.

Another song, one that spoke like a prayer to Obi, was Coming Up Easy by Paulo Nutini. The lyrics say “It was in love I was created and in love is how I hope I die.” And boy was he surrounded by love. On home hospice, our house flowed in and out with friends and family at all hours of the day. Our phones flooded with video messages, texts, emails, and memories shared on the Kudoboard. In his final days, he got sweet drawings and giggles from his boys, heard the laughter of his kids and his nephews playing at Christmas, and had 24/7 care from me, his siblings, his mom, my parents, friends, nurses, doctors, and received his last rites from Fr Paul before passing peacefully in his sleep at the hospital. Through all this, he was reminded over and over that his life was truly beautiful. Truly beautiful.

Now to my Eli, Sammy, and JJ: I want you to know that daddy’s life was beautiful, not because he had a lot of money, not because he was popular in school, not because he got all the gifts he wanted, and not because he knew all the answers or always knew what to do. His life was beautiful because he was thankful every day for every blessing that God gave him. He was thankful for the big special gifts, like you three boys, and the little gifts too like getting to see a sunset over the city, or having a favorite beanie that kept him warm in the winter. He tried his best to be kind to everyone around him, he said sorry every time he hurt someone, and he made sure to go to sleep each night believing he did all he could to settle any wrongs, and he woke up each morning thanking God for a new day. And he wanted more than ANYTHING to be here on Earth to keep helping you discover how to lead your OWN beautiful life. But since he knew the cancer was making his body stop working, Daddy made sure that you would still be surrounded by love and never be alone. Now that he is in Heaven, his spirit will be watching over you, and mommy and everyone who loves you will be the ones to help you figure this out.

As I try to close this out, I want to say, it has been the honor of a lifetime to be his wife. To care for him in his living, and in his dying. I wanted to share about a card I wrote Obi that he kept at his desk at work. I don’t know why he chose this one out of all other cards and pictures, but when I got it back after his desk was cleaned out, I read through it, and one line stood out. The card was from while we were dating, and I had said “I love that you are right beside me as we run this race towards our Heavenly Home.” I never thought that Obi would win the race. But I definitely feel some sense of accomplishment and pride knowing we lived exactly the way we had hoped we would - supporting each other, loving each other, until we made it to our Heavenly Home. And since he won that one, I’m now focusing on my newest goal - raising the family that will meet him at the gates of Heaven. Read less