My beloved husband, Pancho Cordero Delos Santos, passed away at 2:16 p.m. on Sunday, January 4, 2026, at Straub Medical Center in Honolulu, Hawaii. He was surrounded by his and my family, relatives, and friends. It was a beautiful and special couple of hours, even though it was such a sad day.

At about 6:35 a.m., I woke up in our bedroom (for some odd reason) and walked into the living room where Pancho was sitting in his chair. He told me he wanted to go to the bedroom and lie down on our bed, so I helped him. By then, it had become extremely difficult for him to walk and even to lie down. Something so simple for healthy people had become almost impossible for Pancho to do.

As soon as he was on the bed, around 6:45 a.m., Pancho began struggling to breathe and was gagging. For nearly a year he had refused any medical treatment or calls for an ambulance. So calling 911 was an extremely hard decision for me.

After a few minutes, the ambulance, fire truck, and police arrived—about 15 people total—trying their best to fit into our small apartment. I could hear them asking Pancho all kinds of questions, but he was unable to respond.

Later, the doctor told me that Pancho had experienced two heart attacks by the time the EMTs left our apartment complex. The police tried very hard to distract me from going to where the EMTs were vigorously working to help Pancho breathe and trying twice to revive him.

My anxiety was extremely high, and I was terrified not knowing whether he was still alive.

Eventually, they transported Pancho to Straub Medical Center. We were Kaiser members, but the police explained they had to take him to the nearest hospital to try to save his life.

I rushed to find something to wear and ended up grabbing a UH sweatshirt—one Pancho had bought for me when I was hospitalized in June 2025. With the help of our wonderful and loving neighbors, Denise Werle and Randy, I was rushed to Straub.

When I arrived at the ER, a nurse prevented me from going into the area where Pancho was. I was extremely anxious and nervous, and I realized I needed my family with me, so I texted my siblings in a group message. Soon after, a very kind and concerned doctor came to me and told me that Pancho was still alive, but very sick. He tried to explain everything, but my mind was already overwhelmed and I couldn’t think straight.

A few minutes later, I was taken to Pancho’s room in the ER. Seeing him intubated, with wires and tubes all over his body, completely broke my heart. A kind nurse explained Pancho’s medical condition to me, but my mind was clouded, and I couldn’t fully grasp everything she was saying.

Thank God my sister, Dora, and her husband, Jay, arrived. It was such a relief to see them, especially since Dora had experience in the medical field having worked as a medical transcriptionist.

As the minutes and hours passed, numerous friends, family members, and relatives slowly trickled in. What truly astonished me was that whenever someone entered the room, Pancho’s eyes would light up. He would try to talk, though it was difficult because he was intubated.

Pancho became especially excited when Denise Werle and Pancho’s brother, Danny, came into the room. I could clearly see that he recognized everyone. The last to arrive were his cousin, Victor Cordero, and Victor’s girlfriend, Prisca Munar (who is also my first cousin). They had just gotten off the plane from Maui. Watching Victor talk to Pancho was such a beautiful sight—my heart completely melted.

A few minutes later, a nurse came in and kindly told everyone to leave the room, but Victor and I refused. The nurse then removed the tubes from Pancho’s mouth, and we could see his numbers slowly going down. Soon, everyone—about 15 to 20 people—came back into the room. Pancho peacefully passed away as we all cried, prayed the Our Father and Hail Mary, and sang “Amazing Grace.”

Pancho had insisted that he did not want dialysis, and I had to honor his wishes.

Yes, he might have lived longer if he had chosen dialysis, but his doctor explained that he would have had an extremely difficult time surviving. The doctor also told me that they would likely have had to amputate both of his legs. I knew deep in my heart that Pancho would never have wanted that kind of life.

Thank you, Pancho, for everything you did for me—especially during the last few months and weeks. I will forever cherish the beautiful memories we shared. Thank you for the beautiful life we had together.

When you get to Heaven, please tell Charles and Christina I said, “Hello.”

I love you with all my heart and soul.~ Jenny Duhaylonsod Delos Santos