Amy Krouse Rosenthal Marry My Husband dead ovarian cancer

Amy Krouse Rosenthal Dies After Writing ‘Marry My Husband’ In ‘NYT’s Modern Love

Amy Krouse Rosenthal was born Amy Renee Krouse on April 29, 1965, and on Monday the bestselling author and popular speaker died from ovarian cancer at 51-years-old, just weeks after writing a heartbreaking dating profile for her husband Jason.

On March 3, author Amy Krouse Rosenthal wrote “I’m facing a deadline.”

The Washington Post reported that her Modern Love column for the New York Times resonated with many of her online readers, and it quickly went viral. Her essay titled “You May Want to Marry My Husband” was written as a dating profile for Jason, her husband of 26 years; a testament of her love for him as she faced the prospect of her own death.

Amy and Jason had ambitious plans, but sadly in September, 2015, Amy discovered she had ovarian cancer.

“This is when we entered what I came to think of as Plan ‘Be,’ existing only in the present. As for the future, allow me to introduce you to the gentleman of this article, Jason Brian Rosenthal. He is an easy man to fall in love with. I did it in one day.”

The Associated Press reported that Rosenthal died less than two weeks after her essay was published. Amy Rennert, Amy’s long-time literary agent, said “she was the most life-affirming and love-affirming person.”

Amy Krouse Rosenthal leaves an amazing legacy, including short films, many children’s and adult books, TED talks, and radio commentary. Her 2005 memoir Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life became an instant hit, and last year, she echoed the format in Textbook Amy Krouse Rosenthal. Author John Green tweeted that Amy was a brilliant writer, and an even better friend.

“Amy’s genius was in her generosity, which the world saw when her recent essay about her husband Jason went viral.”

Two weeks before her death from ovarian cancer, Amy Krouse Rosenthal wrote an essay titled “You May Want to Marry My Husband” about her husband Jason.

“I have never been on Tinder, Bumble or eHarmony, but I’m going to create a general profile for Jason right here, based on my experience of coexisting in the same house with him for, like, 9,490 days. First, the basics: He is 5-foot-10, 160 pounds, with salt-and-pepper hair and hazel eyes.”

She then went on to list the attributes that she loved so much about him: he “loves listening to live music,” is “a sharp dresser,” is an “absolutely wonderful father to our three children,” and he’s “uncannily handy.”

In conclusion, Amy explained why she had used this precious time to write her final note.

“I want more time with Jason. I want more time with my children. I want more time sipping martinis at the Green Mill Jazz Club on Thursday nights. But that is not going to happen. I probably have only a few days left being a person on this planet. So why I am doing this? I am wrapping this up on Valentine’s Day, and the most genuine, non-vase-oriented gift I can hope for is that the right person reads this, finds Jason, and another love story begins.”

She then left a large blank space, empty of words, “as a way of giving you two the fresh start you deserve.” She signed off, “With all my love, Amy.”

The New York Times reported that, on Monday, Amy Krouse Rosenthal died from ovarian cancer at her home in Chicago. She was a prolific children’s book author, public speaker, and memoirist, and many, many people will remember her for her recent column in the New York Times titled “You May Want to Marry My Husband.” Her column has attracted almost 4.5 million online readers.

Her grieving husband Jason offered this statement.

“When I read her words for the first time, I was shocked at the beauty, slightly surprised at the incredible prose given her condition and, of course, emotionally ripped apart.”

Amy’s news editor at Random House, Maria Modugno, said in a phone interview that “Amy ran at life full speed and heart first: her writing was who she was.”

In an interesting twist to this story, when Amy Krouse Rosenthal turned 40-years-old, she began calculating how many days she had left until she turned eighty.

“How many more times, then, do I get to look at a tree? Let’s just say it’s 12,395. Absolutely, that’s a lot, but it’s not infinite, and I’m thinking anything less than infinite is too small a number and not satisfactory. At the very least, I want to look at trees a million more times. Is that too much to ask?”

Perhaps it was.

[Featured Image by Amy Krouse Rosenthal/Instagram]

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