The weight of what’s to come presses heavily on former Senator Ben Sasse, a reality he openly confronts as he battles Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. He speaks not of his own fear, but of the future ache his absence will leave for those he loves most – a wife and three children whose lives will be irrevocably altered.
The diagnosis, delivered late last year, was stark: a “death sentence.” Sasse, at 54, wrestled with the thought of his 14-year-old son facing life without a father, a milestone birthday looming just two years away. The image of his daughters, 22 and 24, walking down the aisle without his presence brought a profound sadness.
Despite the grim prognosis, Sasse finds a surprising peace. He describes death as a “wicked thief,” something to be actively resisted, yet acknowledges its inevitability. There’s a quiet comfort in the idea of passing “through the veil of tears” only once, a finality that promises an end to suffering.
His children, he believes, are well-equipped to navigate the grief ahead. He credits their mother’s strength and their shared faith, a deeply rooted hope in something beyond this earthly realm. Conversations with his adult daughters feel honest and complete, while his son, though less forthcoming, appears to be coping with resilience.
The treatment itself is brutal. Sasse describes a “nasty drug” that causes internal bleeding, leaving visible marks – dried blood across his face, a body unable to heal. He acknowledges the physical toll, a sensation of his skin feeling “nuclear,” yet maintains his pain has lessened from a debilitating 8 to a manageable 4.
This battle follows a recent upheaval in his life. Sasse left the Senate in 2023 to become president of the University of Florida, a role he relinquished after just a year and a half when his wife was diagnosed with epilepsy. Each challenge seems to reinforce a perspective focused not on himself, but on the well-being of his family.
He carries the “heaviness” of his impending death, not as a burden of fear, but as a sorrow for the future moments he will miss, the milestones he won’t witness. It’s a testament to a life lived with love, and a final, poignant concern for those he leaves behind.
