LUCY Kelsall, 35, is the head of the Salvation Army and lives in Newport, Gwent.
Here she discovers how her husband, David, who died of throat cancer, wrote out of the grave.
"When I first sat on a real breakfast, from my husband David, who was 45, he died of throat cancer, I tried to ignore the feeling of weakness in the stomach. It was only a month away and it was still impossible for me to function normally.
"With my cereals, I threw a half-hearted paper into the bowl that fell into my bowl. When I noticed the famous manuscript, my backbone slid. It was David's note, which says he will love me forever.
"We first met at the local rehabilitation center in South Wales. In 2005, I was referred to when I was fighting drugs and later became head of the center. Six years later, David came as an alcoholic. We both felt an immediate spark, but there were strict rules about staff and patient relations so that until David finished his recovery in November, we could finally be together.
"We became inseparable and in two years we moved together, got married and started looking for a baby. But one day in early 2014, David, who worked as an assistant in the rehabilitation center, began to complain about a sore throat.
"After visiting the doctor, David was first diagnosed with a silent acid reflux and prescribed medication, and in July he was admitted to the hospital for tests when he found a lump in the neck. Two weeks later, he was diagnosed with throat cancer.
"With the thought of losing my husband, I felt paralyzed with fear, and I could say that David is terrified. I recently discovered that I was expecting a baby, so we tried to focus on this incredible news, but only two weeks after David's diagnosis I was aborted. It seemed as if everything had been broken down by stitches.
"Despite the fact that in the surgical regime, numerous circuits of radiotherapy and throat dissection, a lymph node was removed, every time physicians struggled with the work of David's Cancer, a second pause appeared elsewhere. In total, he developed five tumors in his throat within four years.
"In a desperate attempt to overcome cancer by cancer, David removed the voice box and throat in February 2016. He always illuminated the room with his positive attitude and chatting, so the loss of speaking ability is a devastating blow.
"He started to write my love notes without a voice to express how he feels. They appeared in unexpected places: in a car, arranged around the living room or under the pillow, if he knew that he had a bed in the hospital. Every time I found one, my heart jumped my heart.
"For some months, we almost forgot about David's cancer, but in September 2017 she returned aggressively. The tumor was wrapped around the artery so that surgeons could not remove it, and on December 10, David was taken to the hospital as the blood began to pour out from his mouth. It is tragic that doctors told us that the cancer had spread into the lungs and that they could not do anything more. I blew up when David embraced me firmly.
"We gave a room to the local Marie Curie Restaurant, where we could spend the last valuable days of David together. We watched movies for six days and kept quiet. He had no more power to write, but the last thing he did knowingly was the game of Elvis Presley, who can not help falling in love with his phone.
"22. On December 2017, David died peacefully. My heart broke and I spent the weeks in food. Friends and family were incredible help, but I was ruined. The first morning, when I managed to get out of bed, I found a note in David in the bowl of Rice Krispies.
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"When I read his loving words, I felt like she was still close to me. I avoided sorting his things, but I desperately wanted to find out if he left more records for himself.
"Opening, my eyes filled with tears looking at the cards I was addressed to Valentine, on our anniversary and on my birthday. Over the next few weeks I encountered David's love notes and songs in books hidden in a wardrobe and in various handbags.
"Even now, when I read one of David's records, I remember that it will always be with me in some way. Before starting treatment, we have frozen his sperm, so I am subjecting the IVF to try to have a baby. Since then, I have moved and I do not know if I will find another message again – who knows? I will never stop hoping. "
- Marie Curie nurses provide 1.2 million hours of nursing each year.
- In the novel Cecelia Ahern P.S. I love you Holly's main character receives letters from his deceased husband at this site.