Valentine’s Day is often a celebration of love, joy, and connection. For me, however, it became something far deeper—a reminder that true love transcends time, space, and even death. Just three days after I lost my husband, Eric, I received a final, unexpected Valentine’s gift from him—a gesture that reflected his unwavering thoughtfulness and the profound bond we shared.

A Love Affair Interrupted by Cancer

Our love story was not meant to be cut short. It wasn’t time, nor choice—it was cancer that stole Eric from me. His journey began with what seemed like a minor backache on Thanksgiving Day, but within weeks, the pain intensified. Multiple visits to chiropractors and urgent care centers offered no relief. Finally, after a desperate second trip to the ER, a doctor ordered an MRI—a test that would change everything. The results revealed a pathological fracture and led to a devastating diagnosis: Stage 4 Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

The months that followed were consumed by surgeries, chemotherapy, and radiation. A major operation removed the tumor and replaced his T8 lumbar with a titanium cage. Despite the best efforts of conventional medicine, his condition worsened. When traditional cancer treatments failed, we turned to alternative health treatments.

We traveled to Sanoviv, a functional medicine clinic in Mexico, where Eric received holistic healing treatments, integrative care, and a focus on regenerative medicine. Unfortunately, by that time, his body had been weakened by previous aggressive chemo and radiation—it was simply too late for his immune system to recover. After one last attempt with traditional treatments in Seattle, Eric passed away after a thirteen-month battle with cancer.

A Final Valentine’s Day Surprise

Losing Eric was overwhelming. We had built our marriage around a conscious relationship—one where we practiced gratitude, presence, and deep communication daily. His absence left a void nothing could fill.

Three days after he died, as I struggled with my grief, I awoke to an unexpected Valentine’s Day gift from Eric.

My dear friend Gail, who had flown in from Hawaii to care for me, went shopping at a local organic grocery store that morning. As she wandered through the aisles, she felt an undeniable spiritual presence guiding her. She found herself standing near the flower section, staring at a bouquet of bright yellow tulips—Eric’s favorite color. A rush of goosebumps covered her arms—her sign that Eric was with her.

She instinctively picked up the bouquet and a card. At first, she hesitated at the bold message on the front: “SEXY.” But then, she felt Eric’s presence again, approving of the playful choice. She bought them, knowing they were meant for me.

Love Beyond Borders—His Last Gift to Me

But the story didn’t end there. Eric had always been an exceptional gift-giver, thoughtful and deeply personal in every present he chose. Before his passing, he had enlisted our dear friend Jill, a creative soul who made personalized gifts and heartfelt cards, to help him prepare final messages for his closest friends and family.

Just hours before he made the decision to stop all sustenance, he and Jill had one last session. Together, they curated his final acts of love—thoughtful, personal gifts for the people he loved most.

That evening, six of Eric’s dearest friends and family gathered in our home. Each person received something unique, a reflection of his love for them.

When I unwrapped my gift, I broke down in tears. It was a beautiful wall display, crafted by Jill, featuring:

• A charm bracelet with dance shoes—a nod to our love of dancing.
• A dragonfly charm, our personal reminder that life is an illusion and we are all connected beyond this world.
• A cherished photo from our wedding dance.
• A poem, one that captured the essence of our relationship, titled:

“We Have the Dance of a Lifetime”

The Dance in my heart is a love song.
Sometimes I lead, sometimes I follow.
Even when I’m clumsy,
You continue to move with style and grace.

Together, we have the most beautiful dance.
I slow the music down just to hold you in my arms,
And feel the warmth of your cheek next to mine.

I am grateful
you are with me on my journey.
You have brought me laughter and joy.

Each time I take your hand,
I am reminded
That I never want to let go.

I am in awe of us.
We’ve had our ups and downs, but
Together we have always landed
Solid on our feet.

I am in awe of you.
Beautiful. Brave. Strong. Tender.

I believe in you. I believe in us.
I am blessed to have you in my life.
I love our dance.
I love my beautiful partner.

His Name is Eric—And His Love Lives On

Valentine’s Day was once a celebration of our love, our joy, our bond. Now, it is a reminder of the kind of love that never fades.

Eric’s final gift of love wasn’t just a bouquet, a card, or a charm bracelet. It was a message—one that transcends life and death. He wanted us to know how much we meant to him. He also had a desire to be remembered, not just in memory, but in action.

That’s why I wrote my memoir, His Name is Eric—because his story isn’t just mine. It’s a story for anyone facing cancer, for those navigating alternative health treatments, and for people searching for hope beyond traditional medicine.

If there’s one thing Eric’s journey taught me, it’s that we must ask the hard questions, push for more options, and never stop believing there is another way.

If you or someone you love is facing cancer or searching for healing treatments, I urge you to read His Name is Eric.

For more about our journey, alternative health treatments, and holistic wellness, visit my blog at PhillipaLeseberg.com/blog. And if you have any questions or topics you’d like me to cover, feel free to email me through the site.

Love lives on. Always.