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More than 13 months ago, I was given 12 months to live.
I like to think I took my diagnosis in stride. I moved quickly to simplify my financial affairs, toss unwanted possessions, get new estate-planning documents and change HumbleDollar’s direction so the site could live on after my death.
I also focused on getting the most out of each day. Partly, that meant taking some special trips and spending more time with family. But it also meant continuing to do the work I love and relishing the joys of everyday life.
For me, at least, the prospect of a short life brought a feeling of urgency, greater gratitude for each day and a stronger sense for what’s important. Over the past year, I’ve never been more aware of the finiteness of time. It might sound odd, but that has struck me as a privilege. It’s made me think harder about what I do each day, and it’s heightened my appreciation for the world’s beauty and the goodness of others.
Problem is, my 12-month “deadline” has passed—and I’m still here.
Don’t read too much into that. My prognosis remains poor. Right now, I’m dealing with my four horsemen of the Apocalypse: back pain, fatigue, constipation and loss of appetite, plus some nasty mouth sores. The cancer has spread to my spine and continues to attack my brain, requiring multiple rounds of radiation, as well as the insertion of bone cement to shore up my back. The spreading cancer means my initial treatment plan is no longer working, and I’m now on a new set of meds. I’ve also been trying various medical marijuana products—not something I ever imagined doing—and my hair has all fallen out.
It isn’t clear how much extra time the new treatment plan will buy me. But it is clear I’m not disappearing on schedule.
What should I do with the extra months? Time—which 12 months ago seemed so precious—no longer feels quite so precious. Over the past year, spurred on by my diagnosis, I wrote a slew of articles for both HumbleDollar and a handful of major publications, helped with a book that compiles some of my best Wall Street Journal articles and drafted another book that I hope will appear after my death. With major help from my wife Elaine, I’ve also continued to spend time every day both keeping HumbleDollar going and preparing the site for life without me.
But what now? What should I do with the additional months that I’ve been given? Is it time for new goals?
All this may seem a little manic, and perhaps it is. But I can’t see myself spending my remaining time reading novels and binge-watching Netflix, while I await the final deterioration in my health. At the same time, because of the fatigue, I don’t have much energy for anything else.
For now, I’m hoping the fatigue will pass, as the effects of my recent 10 consecutive weekdays of total brain radiation fade. It would be great to feel like my old self, or somewhat close, for at least a few months. But as I sit here at the breakfast table, my brain sluggish from the radiation and the chemo, it feels like relief is still weeks away.
Like so many others, I’ve never met you in person — only through your clear, thoughtful words. But even at a distance, this post moved me deeply.
Throughout your career, you’ve helped us focus on what truly matters — stripping away noise, simplifying complexity, and inviting clarity. And now, in this most personal moment, you’re doing it again: revealing what endures beneath all that fades.
The body may weaken.
The mind may struggle.
Treatments may come and go.
But you are not any of it. You are the awareness behind it all — timeless, unwavering, whole.
Your presence on HumbleDollar has been a gift. And your soul, I believe, is not bound by time.Hold on to that truth when your mind and body make demands on you. It’s still there — steady and untouched.
In my prayers brother…the medical marijuana help with anything? I didn’t scroll through all the comments so hope I’m not redundant. Peace sir
I’ve tried a few concoctions, but I don’t really like how they make me feel. But I’m still experimenting….
I want to say that please continue on the road to recovery. A new therapy may come your way to clear your body. Things might work out and you can get back to your previous self.
Is there anything that Elaine, Hannah or Henry want to know? There’s a lot I wish I had asked my parents about. Now, I wonder what their answers would be. Sometimes, they told me a story, but I didn’t write it down; years later, I’m not sure I’m remembering it correctly. Finally, perhaps you might want to write each of your grandchildren a letter they can read when they’re older.
Jonathan, thank you for all you’ve given me. You’ve been a true friend.
Thank you so much for the update. Wishing you comfort and peace every day.
You might consider complementary therapies to go with the chemo and radiation. There is ginger for nausea (e.g. ginger tea). There are high dose infusions of Vitamin C or Vitamin D. Fasting before/during/after treatments. Low glycemic diets. Most of these need to be directed by someone who understands your situation since the treatments can vary. Search “integrative medical cancer center” for examples. Also, there is a web site called conqueringcancer.com that can help you explore the topic. All is not lost. Keep the fire burning.
Humans naturally want to help others—it’s a deep part of how we find meaning. Yet sometimes, that urge can make us overlook what someone truly needs. Over the years, I’ve found—often through the wisdom of my patients—that simply offering full attention and quiet presence can be more comforting than any advice. Many patients with cancer shared that what mattered most was the sense of connection, not medical guidance, and their families later told me how much those moments meant. These experiences remind me that, often, the greatest gift we can give is simply to be there, fully present.
I will say this for Jonathan. He has asked on several occasions that people not suggest treatments other then what his doctors have prescribed. He has written that people mean well when they do offer advice, but please honor his wishes.
Thank you for saying that. As I understand it, there are 250 different cancers, and countless subcategories within that 250, each with their own treatment plan. I know most folks mean well, but I get countless unsolicited medical suggestions. Would HD readers make investment suggestions without asking a few questions first? These medical suggestions are equally uninformed.
So appreciative that you are still feeling like writing and commenting but most of all attending to your real job, keeping Mr.Quinn in line😉.
Jonathan – You’ve been an inspiration to me, both professionally and personally since I first started following Humble Dollar approximately 5 years ago. I have no idea how I would handle your situation if I were put in your shoes but know I would think of how you have handled your journey and I would want to mimic your path if possible. Thank you for publishing “The Best of Jonathan Clements,” it’s a wonderful reminder of your financial and journalistic skills, and all for a great cause.
Thank you for creating this website and newsletter. Your contributions to our well being have been valuable. As we believe in a living savior, I hope and pray that you do, too. Praying now for your well being.
My wife Michele died recently (7/8/25) of a long time ailment, Parkinsons + dementia – I am mourning big time as I write this The overlap with your story is the inevitability – but in Michele’s case there was no 12-month prognosis. At the end, she was on Hospice care for 44 months. Considering that the median hospice care is for 17 days (approx) and the 95th% is less than a year, she did very well. I hope the same statistics for you.
Jonathan, you don’t know me but you and I ran 5ks in Woodbridge/Colonia. (I found this from the WWW). Your time was always ahead of mine.
Andrew, I’m so sorry for your loss. I hope your pain eases in the weeks and months ahead.
Thank you Jonathan. End of life predictions are nebulous at best. If I had to say why me wife exceeded expectations by so much I’d ascribe it to immediate care – a collective of Jamaican home health aides in the NYC area.
Spend time with those you love, those who love you and those with whom you love to spend time. Children and family first.
And as I recall, you and your wife were considering a bathroom remodel and debating whether to spend the money. If you did it, go enjoy it. 🙂
It is so good of you to take us along on your journey through this difficult time. So much to learn from you still – in more ways than just financial. You have been a source of wisdom and are so appreciated.
Johnathan:
I feel compelled to respond to your questions: “What should I do with the extra months? what should I do?”
After a bit of reflection, I can only say that this is what I *think* I would do if I were you:
– Do not worry about others at this point, we all will be fine.
– Spend ALL of your remaining time with your loved ones.
– Reflect on your life, from your earliest memories, your childhood, your relationships, your trials and tribulations and your successes. Relive your life in your mind. Get out all of your lifetime of pictures and re-live the moments reflected in them. Doing that will make you happy.
– Take medications that will keep you as comfortable as possible.
– Be satisfied and be happy with the fact that you have helped many other of your fellow human beings during your lifetime.
– Be happy that you tried, and did, your best.
– Your remaining time on this earth is for you.
– Embrace, accept, and allow yourself to “go gently into the night”, for it is the fate of all living things.
Respectfully, David Rhoades
Hi Jonathan, this is a good problem to have: “Problem is, my 12-month “deadline” has passed—and I’m still here.” Each day you are around, you are helping people with your story and wisdom. So thank you and keep going! In term of what you may do, what do you think about doing more podcast? (I am a big fan of your Down the Middle, with Peter Malouk.)
Congratulations on all your hard work. It is not about how long you have to live, it is about your attitude, your steadfastness to move forward, and it is one day at a time. Make the best of each day, make sure you walk, if not a mile or two, walk in your apartment, you have to get exercise to keep your mind and body as strong as possible to fight your cancer. Forget about what you cannot do, concentrate on what you can do, and then do it. Listen to soothing music, review your favorite vacation pictures. Please keep writing articles for Humble Dollar, books, and inform us from time to time of your journey. I too am Humpty Dumpty cemented back together, work hard to be informed of your cancer, seek out the best treatment, be in an organization that concentrates on new procedures and clinical trials to improve your condition, lessen your pain, and Fight, Fight, Fight.
We all fortunate to have met your through Humble Dollar, and pray for you and Elaine for the best and that relief is just a little ahead.
Jonathon, thank you for your words. They have been very inspirational in my own life.
Jonathan:
I also just discovered Humble Dollar about a year ago and read about your health issues around that time. I wanted to let you know that I have been praying for you and your wife as you travel this difficult path. Humble Dollar is one of the few subscriptions I get that I make sure I read, because the content is quite valuable. I just retired at the end of last December and the great articles you have provided helped me in planning for this important phase of life. Now that I am almost 71, I spend more time thinking about the fact that my life on this earth is finite, and it is important to me that I use that time well, as you also have mentioned. Your perspective on the brevity of life here has helped me fine-tune my perspective as well.
I will continue praying for you, that your remaining days may be rich.
Eben Fowler.
Jonathan: Following you for years, thank you for all you have done for me and our family. Thank you for your life and giving to others as you search the great mystery of life and death. Sending love and gratitude. Alan Block
Thank you for the update. You are in our thoughts and prayers.
I’m sending pain-free wishes your way Jonathan.
Jonathan, simply put, you’ve been an inspiration to me.
Thank you Jonathan. I’ve looked to you for years to get financial advice. Now you are a shining example of how to live out the end of your days.
Thank you, Jonathan, for continuing to share your journey. I wish you well that the effects of chemo and radiation can dissipate so you can feel like your old self again soon.
Thank you Jonathan for continuing to share your wisdom on Life and Finances .
Your honesty , humility and courage is an example for us to ponder!
My husband and I are just so very glad you are still here. Thank you for the update and your continuing wisdom as we navigate this phase of our lives.
As I only discovered HD in the last year or so, I struggled with whether I had any business commenting on your deeply personal update. But I found myself reflecting on how your openness and vulnerability in sharing your wisdom and journey with your HD readers has created a community that goes far beyond the financial realm. It’s clear to me that thanks to you, HumbleDollar is a space that in spite of differing opinions, support for one another thrives, friendships have developed and people feel able to share their own vulnerabilities. And that feels like a miracle to me in these divisive times. I add my gratitude and well wishes to all of your other supporters who have expressed those sentiments so much more eloquently than I ever could.
We are the ones who’ve gotten the extra innings! Thank you, Jonathan, for giving them to us!
From the very start, you have displayed courage and dignity. And we have been the beneficiaries of both.
As I have mentioned before, you and HD changed my retirement and gave it new purpose and I will always be grateful- even when being chastised on occasion. 😎
Thanks, as always, for your words. And thank you for the title too. I’m immersed in baseball this year & this is a great reason why they shouldn’t put a runner on second base in the 10th inning. I’m rooting for a 20 or 30 inning game!
Jonathan, I referred an old teammate I lost touch with after 7th grade — but reconnected a couple of years ago — to your investment and retirement sections just a few days ago. Why? He just retired at age 65 and asked what I thought about crypto. The financial wisdom
imbedded in your site will live on long past most of us, to help others like him.
Your column today encourages me to prepare to meet my end of life someday with as much purpose, commitment, and transparency as you have demonstrated. Thank you for sharing your journey with us.
Thank you Jonathan for sharing this perspective on your current situation. It left my wife and I both quite lost for words, both pondering how we live our own lives, and what we might do if our time left was less than we might hope for.
All power to you.
“But what now? What should I do with the additional months that I’ve been given? Is it time for new goals?”
Thank you for the gift of this column today and your questions.
Your creative drive and judgment are extraordinary so I imagine you have ideas, tempered by the logistics dealing with disease progression and side effects of treatments as you’ve noted. (Darn mucosa. Sensitive cells.)
Just one person’s opinion here, I would say, yes, go ahead and decide what’s next for you, what might make for a good enough day tomorrow beyond coffee and company, and see what this next series of days might amount to.
Maybe you could dust off a discarded youthful hobby, writing poetry perhaps? Or take up a new one, something like bird watching that can be done in most every setting. If you always imagined composing the world’s next unfinished symphony or writing a novel in 30 days (The Thorn Birds first draft finished in a month), go for it.
Wishing you and your family many good enough days.
Jon, you’ve earned the right to do whatever the heck you want to, including nothing at all. Best of all, you need not decide in advance, do whatever the spirit moves you towards. Thanks for your many years of contributions to this group, and I hope you’re able to be as comfortable as possible.
Hello Jonathan, longtime reader and admirer of yours here, going back to your days with the WSJ and from the beginning of Humble Dollar.
I have been wondering how you are doing and truly appreciate you sharing this update. While I can’t begin to comprehend how challenging your situation has been to deal with, I truly admire the strong, pragmatic and productive approach you have taken to it, which is truly inspiring. I have learned so much from you and know that many others have as well.
I echo the sentiments of others here, wishing you many more days of living the best life you possibly can with the hand you’ve been dealt. Please keep us updated to the extent you can, your journey is truly inspiring. Cheers—
As a retired neurologist, I’m sure your medical and nursing team are in awe of your refusal to surrender to your illness. Thank you.
Hello Jonathan,
I became familiar with your work recently, when you wrote a short article for AARP about dealing with your illness. It was very inspiring.
Perhaps now IS the time to just go easy… I wish you lightness.
Here are a few Eian Rivera videos:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ffaWHpwKRc
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CLzRKeGBGKg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4BRo4A6J9c
Hold Fast
Do not go gentle into that good night—
Rage, fight for one more day, one more breath.
Another moment to love, to laugh,
To savor this sacred gift from God called life.
Jonathan, thank you for this update. You have remained in my thoughts since your diagnosis and my admiration for how you have carried on is immense.
I hope some relief comes soon and you can continue doing what you enjoy for a long time.
I want to say again what an inspiration the recent book project is. I’ve now read “The Best of Jonathan Clements” cover to cover and it was a stout reminder of how your columns back in the WSJ days put me on the right path for investing and dealing with finances more generally. It is a wonderful gift to us all.
Andrew
Jonathan, your willingness to share your difficult journey is inspirational. And in that remarkable generosity may lie one answer to your question.
When my time was determined to be finite, of course we rushed to do some trips and cruises, but I also eventually settled on a particular personal goal — to try to make a small difference in the life of someone else, with word or gesture, as often as I could. We all remember a comment or compliment or laugh we received from someone we didn’t know, sometimes decades later. I resolved to give out those little gifts wherever possible.
I tried to do it in every phone and personal conversation, not just with family and friends but with grocery checkers and waitresses and my infusion nurses (always) and even the health insurance people on the phone (it was tough with them sometimes!). If I could make someone laugh or generate a warm thank-you response, it made me feel good too. Especially on days when I didn’t.
I’ve done my best to continue the effort in the years since my unexpected survival.
Jonathan, thanks for the update. You and Elaine are always in Vicky’s and my thoughts and prayers.
Your post highlights just how difficult your situation is and how imprecise cancer treatment can be.
In some respects, my experience mirrors yours, but I’m presently in a good place, for an indeterminate time. I consider this to be a plateau, a short resting place on my journey to the end. That created a different set of challenges; it was not expected that I’d be on the planet on this day. Some friends and family really don’t know how to take this; am I a dead man walking? My doctors have an interesting view of this and I’m now a case study. Nothing permanent, simply a stay. How long will this particular Eveready bunny run?
It reminds me of some of the elderly. My spouse has had relatives that lived well into their 90s. Each year there was a big birthday bash and everyone said a final “Good-bye”. In each situation, after about 5 years of this we really didn’t know how to be. Was it a final good bye? Or practice?
I had years to think the possibilities through. My twin passed of medical complications at 50 and my parents both died of health issues when young. I decided that if I made it to 65 each and every day was to be a bonus round, and so it has been.
My planning on how to spend my bonus rounds and care for family after my passing began in 2002. I put the financial plan into action and ten years later I began “bonus round” activities. I’d been living in that bonus for 10 years when the inevitable happened in 2022.
I often think that I am living a life my parents and twin were not able to. There is a kind of burden to that. However, I think my situation has been largely freeing. I’m not fond of uncertainty and I prefer to deal with things that are concrete and for which I can take action.
Some year ago, while healthy I was asked “How would you live if you knew today was the last day of your life?”. I had no real answer to that question. I concluded I wanted to do all things at once, which is not possible. So, I did as much as I could in steps, year after year.
I’ll have some regrets for the few things that could have mattered and that I never did. On the other hand, I look forward to an end and am prepared for that.
Jonathan, thank you for continuing to share your journey with such clarity and honesty. As I read this, I was struck not only by your resilience and pragmatism, but also by the absence of a spiritual thread—no mention of what lies beyond, or how you’re making peace with the unknown. The absence is perhaps your way of honoring your deeply personal belief in the ineffable reality. That silence made me reflect on how each of us navigates mortality in our own way. Your focus on legacy, love, and daily purpose is its own kind of grace.
As someone who spent years in hospice care, I’ve often seen how the spiritual—however one defines it—can offer a kind of spaciousness in the face of suffering. But I also know that grace takes many forms. Wishing you continued clarity and comfort in the days ahead.
Jonathan,
Thanks for the update. You are an inspiration to us all for your steadfastness and resolve in the face of such a terrible disease.
I lost my dear wife of 57 years 2 weeks ago. She died of cancer and was only diagnosed about 3 months ago. The blessing was that she did not suffer long, but I wish I had more time with her. I have done a Griefshare ministry at our church for 11 years. I thought I understood grief, but I am now learning it from a totally different perspective.
I pray that you will have many more productive days with family and doing the things you love most.
Deepest condolences on your profound loss. Be gentle with yourself as you move through your grief.
Sending my deepest sympathy, Jerry. Thank you for letting us know so we can keep you in our thoughts and prayers.
Jerry, I’m sorry for your loss. I imagine your grief is so very raw, and I admire your courage in sharing your sad news. As I’ve told Elaine many times, I feel death is hardest on those left behind.
Jerry, I am so sorry to hear of the passing of your wife of 57 years.
Wishing you peace during this difficult time.
Andrew
Jerry, my sincere condolences on your loss. 57 years is an accomplishment. You are in my thoughts.
Jerry, my heart goes out to you in this terrible time.
I am so sorry for your loss, Jerry. Prayers to you and your family.
I’m so sorry to read about your recent loss. Prayers to you and your family during this difficult time.
Jonathan,
You have accomplished and experienced things in life that most of us can only dream about. But everyone has to face this end of life reality and there is no escape. It is a question of “when” and not “if”.
The questions you raise are very important to everyone and I have spent time thinking about it myself. What would I do if I am faced with such a situation? I would focus on meeting family and friends at my home and spend precious quality time with them to share my life lessons about love, death, aging, forgiveness, and the meaning of life. And, of course, some financial lessons. This may help them shape their own lives better in some ways. Everyone’s life has a meaning and this is an opportunity to express it. I would also update my memoir and family history documents. You may have other meaningful ways to spend the time, I am sure.
I was touched by reading the book, “Tuesdays with Morrie”, a memoir by Mitch Albom about his weekly visits with his former sociology professor, Morrie Schwartz, during the last months of Morrie’s life. Through these lessons, Morrie inspired Mitch to re-evaluate his priorities and live a more meaningful life.
All the best and the whole HD family is with you!
Thank you for the progress report. I have nothing to add to the thoughts so well expressed below, except to hope that you are getting first class pain management to go with the treatment. Congratulations on beating the initial estimate.
I struggled to hit the “like” button on this, Jonathan. How do you “like” someone’s battle with such an awful disease? How do you “like” seeing someone whose work you’ve learned so much from for 30 years struggle so much? Yes, I hit the “like” button, but I don’t like what you and your family are going through. May you take comfort knowing all your work has meant – and continues to mean – so much to so many.
I am so sorry for what you are going through, Jonathan, and I certainly do hope and pray for quality of life improvement so that you can continue enjoying your family, your work, and the simple pleasures of life for as long as possible. And if Elaine reads these comments, I’m thinking of her, too.
I’m also blown away with how much you’ve accomplished in 13 months!
You continue to touch many lives, daily, and inspire us in so many unexpected ways. Sending you strength and endurance, hope, and prayers.
We all wish an end to suffering. May yours come when you are ready.
Respect to you sir for your strength and the best of luck finding many more days filled with joy
I’m one of many readers who go back to your WSJ days – always reading and occasionally commenting. Even though I don’t “know” you, I feel like you’re a long term friend and advisor whose knowledge and judgement I trust. Below, Nick expressed my thoughts exactly as to what you and we all should do in our remaining days.
Jonathan, you’re like the hero on the battlefield that just won’t quit fighting for his fellow soldiers. Thanks for all you do. Sending our love. Dan and Chris
I hope whatever additional time you were given is spent with those you love and doing as many of the things you love doing. I also hope you are as comfortable as possible. You are in my thoughts.
Jonathan, as I read your post, I thought about all you have given us. All you have given to your family. All you have given for the future. I remember you said there was something about living longer than 12 mos that would help Elaine, and I thank God that you are still here and that prayer of mine was answered. I also thought of letters or videos for your grandchildren for the future. Knowing you, I am guessing you have already thought of this.
Today would have been Spouse’s brother’s 61st birthday and he had pain also with his ALS. I will offer my prayers for your pain today as I think of him. Chris
Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, Chris. ALS is such a cruel disease. Thinking of you on what I’m sure is a very hard day. 🙏
As I recall, Jonathan said it takes nine months after marriage for a spouse to qualify for survivor benefits from Social Security. He and Elaine immediately married right after his diagnosis, so mission accomplished there.
Whatever you do is just fine – whether that is achieving a lot or a little on a given day. I’m sure we all feel immensely privileged that you choose to spend some of your time here.
Hope you get some energy back to do all the things with family you hope for.
Jonathan you are a beast. You have been running a marathon without a defined finish line, but your marathon training has given you the tools to push through. Although it would be impossible and inappropriate to put myself in your shoes, I guess my advice is to take one day at a time, and each day do what will make you happiest at any one moment, and savor it. Every day, and forever we will have you in our thoughts when we open this site, and thank you for this gift.
Jonathan, touching as always. Sending you strength (if that’s even a thing, maybe just nice words). I don’t have words that would suffice here anyway. I am grateful for your wisdom that you have willingly shared. We will be forever touched by your work and it leaves a legacy that is being passed down to my 23, 21 and 16 year old. Your work has meaning and is not in vain. Wishing you the best day today, I know you will do the best to make it count.
This is a tough one to comment on, Jonathan. I’ll just send my hope that relief comes.