I am writing this on one of the many days etched deeply into my heart, mind, and soul. If you are from the southeastern United States, you will remember this as the day Hurricane Helene slammed our forests, neighborhoods, and cities. Families went without electricity for weeks, food supplies spoiled quickly, and homes were crushed by trees. It was complete devastation, but on that day Hurricane Helene was the least of my worries.
Paco had an appointment to have surgery to have a port placed in his chest that morning. We were awakened earlier than planned due to the raging storm that was beating limbs, leaves, and debris against our home. We reached out to surgery facility asking if the procedure was still on, or if we should hunker down and stay clear of the disaster scene. The port was supposed to be the final task to complete before Paco could begin his cancer treatment journey. We were looking forward to the chance to finally be able to fight the monster growing inside of him, but things quickly changed. We understood that it would not be possible to have the surgery done that day, and we were told a call would be made next week to reschedule. We had lost power at our home but could manage. We looked around our small town and were surprised at the conditions surrounding us. I can still remember hearing Paco say, “It is like a horror movie, a nightmare.” I never could have guessed this was a sick form of foreshadowing on our lives.
Within the next few hours we would be rushing to the emergency room, my husband in unimaginable pain breaking down into tears. The state of the world completely disappeared around me. All I could focus on was ensuring that Paco received help. While all he could focus on was making sure I was comfortable. Once admitted and placed into a room he would convince me and the nurses that he felt better sitting in the chair than in the bed, and that I should take the bed instead and rest. At home we had no power, no food, no air conditioning. I sometimes think that Paco just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to go without during this natural disaster, that in the hospital I would be kept safe and taken care of. He was just that kind of guy. Yet, things continued to escalate regarding his health. We were transferred to another hospital, having to dodge fallen trees and risk powerless red-light crossings. At that hospital we will be told he will not walk out alive. Paco would code that night but quickly come back once laying eyes on me. His blood pressure had dropped dangerously low due to dialysis during the night. When I had woken up to the commotion and came to his side, he looked at me, smiled, and his blood pressure leveled. Paco said he was afraid because he didn’t know where I was. When in fact, I had never left his side but had regrettably drifted to sleep from exhaustion. In my next blog post I will dive deeper into the days following, how now in the present I am a year out from my own personal horror movie. My own personal nightmare.
As I reflect on the starting moments of my husband’s descent into eternity, I feel an array of emotions. Understandably I feel sorrow, melancholy, heartbroken, and mournful. While on the other hand I also feel at peace, grateful, and motivated. I will always be subjected to grief-stricken moments. Where the desire to have my husband back outweighs any earthly remedy. Yet, I will also always be subjected to awe-inspiring moments. Ones that show the true beauty of the world. How a single soul, whether here on earth or in heaven, can continue to influence others to practice kindness. Paco was infectious. His smile, his pure heartedness, his caring nature. A year later he continues to invoke others to do the same. When I find myself in these moments where timeline memories overwhelm me, I think of all the good that has come from him and continues to shine.
About Shanna Puckett-Anguiano
Shanna Puckett-Anguiano lost her husband after just four short months of marriage on October 1st, 2024. Shanna and Paco Anguiano were in a long-distance relationship for nearly four years prior to their marriage, as Paco was from Chiapas, Mexico. Shanna and Paco did not let the stigmas and hardships of the K1 visa come between their strong bonds. Anyone who truly knew this couple would quickly correct anyone’s doubt, with even Shanna’s father expressing his thoughts at Paco’s funeral saying, “every father’s wish is for their daughter is to find a man who loves them unconditionally, and that is exactly the man Paco was.” Paco was diagnosed with synovial sarcoma on September 20th, 2024, which coincidentally was also Shanna’s 30th birthday. Paco lost his life unexpectedly to that cancer 11 days later, a week before treatment was scheduled to begin.
Shanna continues to reside in her small hometown, located in the upstate of South Carolina. She is accompanied at home by her two dogs (Indi & Suki) and two cats (Es & Sister). Shanna has been a court reporter for the past 5 years and serves as chairperson of children’s ministry at her home church. She is currently in the process of obtaining additional certifications to continue moving up in her career. Shanna has developed a donation drive in her husband’s name in celebration of his birthday in the month of July called Paco’s Smile. This drive collects material and monetary donations for her local county cancer association. Shanna is an advocate for mental health, cancer awareness, and over all kindness being spread throughout the world. She prays to carry on the legacy of her husband, Jose Francisco Ovando Anguiano, by showing grace, gratitude, and a toothy grin just as he did every day.