Hello, my name is Isabel Elias. I am facing one of the most painful hardships of my life, the loss of my husband, Richard Rodriguez. He passed away on March 8, 2026, National Women’s Day. So ironic, he was an advocate for women's rights.
His final days in the hospital were very hard. Watching him suffer was unbearable. Yet, he was always more concerned about his visitors. Many of you didn’t know he was very sick for the last five years of his life; you might not even know that he was having dialysis for the last eight years, and in the hospital several times each year.
Rich was very private; he didn’t want people to see him as a sick man. He wanted to be seen as a man with many talents and someone you can turn to at any time. He was interested in supporting people in their journeys. He was a generous man in every way. If you had the opportunity to have conversations with him, you would walk away feeling good about yourself. That was Rich.
Rich and I were together for thirty years. We met dancing. We were in an Argentine tango dance group. For the first two years, we were dance partners. Dancing the tango was too sexy and intimate to remain as friends. So, we made the commitment to be together for the rest of our lives, Forever and Ever, Amen. We made this our song and our stand for our relationship.
Rich was my best friend, lover, partner, and soulmate. Our love was stronger than oak and more stable than any relationship. When Rich was diagnosed with end-stage diabetes, everything changed except for our love. It was our love that kept us going on a healing journey. I became his caregiver, bandaging his wounds, giving him his injections, helping him with balance, and much more. But the whole time, he never complained or pitied himself. He tried to do things that were fun and adventurous, even if it was painful.
The last three to four years were the hardest; his disease got worse faster. His toe was amputated; he developed a serious bone infection and gangrene. Two months before he passed, he was in the ICU, first at Corona Regional, and after one month, I was able to transfer him to Loma Linda for his higher care.
At Loma Linda, the doctors were relentless in caring for Rich, but his condition worsened. He could not breathe on his own, so he had to be hooked up to a ventilator, life support.
The night before he passed, I got to kiss him. He puckered up twice, and we kissed. He had tears running down his cheeks. I knew it was the end. The next morning, I got a call from the hospital with the news.
My life looked black; all hope was gone. I was lost, and I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. The nightmares would not go away. As I continue to deal with the devastating loss of my soulmate, I have good and really bad days where breathing is hard. But the support of friends and family helps with the pain and sorrow. Now I’m asking for your support. As a widow on a fixed income with many bills, including the funeral expenses, I feel trapped. If you could find it in your heart to make a donation, I would be forever grateful. Thank you so much.
Love and blessings,
Isabel Elias
His final days in the hospital were very hard. Watching him suffer was unbearable. Yet, he was always more concerned about his visitors. Many of you didn’t know he was very sick for the last five years of his life; you might not even know that he was having dialysis for the last eight years, and in the hospital several times each year.
Rich was very private; he didn’t want people to see him as a sick man. He wanted to be seen as a man with many talents and someone you can turn to at any time. He was interested in supporting people in their journeys. He was a generous man in every way. If you had the opportunity to have conversations with him, you would walk away feeling good about yourself. That was Rich.
Rich and I were together for thirty years. We met dancing. We were in an Argentine tango dance group. For the first two years, we were dance partners. Dancing the tango was too sexy and intimate to remain as friends. So, we made the commitment to be together for the rest of our lives, Forever and Ever, Amen. We made this our song and our stand for our relationship.
Rich was my best friend, lover, partner, and soulmate. Our love was stronger than oak and more stable than any relationship. When Rich was diagnosed with end-stage diabetes, everything changed except for our love. It was our love that kept us going on a healing journey. I became his caregiver, bandaging his wounds, giving him his injections, helping him with balance, and much more. But the whole time, he never complained or pitied himself. He tried to do things that were fun and adventurous, even if it was painful.
The last three to four years were the hardest; his disease got worse faster. His toe was amputated; he developed a serious bone infection and gangrene. Two months before he passed, he was in the ICU, first at Corona Regional, and after one month, I was able to transfer him to Loma Linda for his higher care.
At Loma Linda, the doctors were relentless in caring for Rich, but his condition worsened. He could not breathe on his own, so he had to be hooked up to a ventilator, life support.
The night before he passed, I got to kiss him. He puckered up twice, and we kissed. He had tears running down his cheeks. I knew it was the end. The next morning, I got a call from the hospital with the news.
My life looked black; all hope was gone. I was lost, and I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. The nightmares would not go away. As I continue to deal with the devastating loss of my soulmate, I have good and really bad days where breathing is hard. But the support of friends and family helps with the pain and sorrow. Now I’m asking for your support. As a widow on a fixed income with many bills, including the funeral expenses, I feel trapped. If you could find it in your heart to make a donation, I would be forever grateful. Thank you so much.
Love and blessings,
Isabel Elias
Organizer and beneficiary
Isabel Elias
Beneficiary