At 52, Jonathan D. Stern was “living a typical life in the Washington suburbs: commuting to a job that I loved at . . . an organization that provides vaccines to children in developing countries” when he suffered two massive brain seizures.

After more than a week in the hospital, he learned his diagnosis: glioblastoma, an aggressive brain cancer. Most likely, he would have 12 to 18 months to live.

It was June of 2015.

Mr. Stern’s life would deteriorate dramatically and soon. He would write about it in detail in a story published in The Washington Post on Feb. 29, 2016. His wife, Karen Paul-Stern, would write about what it was like to care for her dying husband in the last year of his life and how it changed her own life in a story published June 2.

On June 18, at their home in Takoma Park, Mr. Stern died at 53.

Eight months after his seizures, Mr. Stern wrote, “I am no longer able to work or live self-sufficiently, as even getting up to use a bathroom is fatiguing. My balance is poor, and I have fallen down several times. Using a computer makes me dizzy. I rarely leave my family room or my house.”

Karen Paul-Stern became her husband’s primary caregiver, managing his medication at home, responding to multiple health crises — blood clots, changes in blood pressure, brain swelling, side effects of multiple medications — while also meeting the demands of her own job as Washington director of the New Israel Fund, which supports social justice in Israel.

“Every morning felt like a bad version of the movie ‘Groundhog Day’ as the alarm rang, and I woke to the same script, wishing the day was already over and that I was back in bed,” she wrote.

“I felt as if I had lost control of every aspect of my life and the things I love. . . . Emotionally, this is a very tough time. Financial concerns are pressing. You are exhausted, physically and mentally. Intimacy is gone, and your partner is now your patient.”

The couple had been married for 25 years.

Jonathan David Stern was born Nov. 21, 1962, in Phoenix. His father was a lawyer, and his mother an artist. He graduated from Northern Arizona University in 1984 and received a master’s degree in 1988 from Johns Hopkins University’s School of Advanced International Studies.

He began his journalism career as a reporter for New Mexico’s Gallup Independent newspaper in 1984, then worked as a reporter at the Phoenix Business Journal. He came to Washington in 1985 as an associate at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy.

From 1988 to 2010, he was publisher and reporter at the business newsletter UCG (United Communications Group). In 2002, he won a Sigma Delta Chi Award from the Society of Professional Journalists for his role in exposing inflated accounting practices at WorldCom, whose founder, Bernard J. Ebbers, went to prison. The company’s bankruptcy led to the loss of 30,000 jobs and billions of dollars in investors’ money.

Mr. Stern was the communications director of the Global AIDS Alliance in 2010 and 2011, then was North American communications director for Gavi, a vaccine alliance for children in undeveloped countries, from 2011 until he became ill.

Survivors include his wife and three children, Elan Stern, Talia Stern and Noah Stern, all of Takoma Park; his father, Sheldon Stern of Tiberias, Israel; his mother and stepfather, Sherri Ettkin and Larry Ettkin, both of Phoenix; and a sister.

Citing the book “Mainstay: For the Well Spouse of the Chronically Ill,” Karen Paul-Stern wrote in June that she had reached what the book’s author, Maggie Strong, called a “new normal” in a progression of emotional stages for spouses who are caregivers.

“We could laugh together again — even indulging in dark humor — and could focus on enjoying some time together,” she wrote.

“Although his prognosis was an enormous shock, it brought us closer as we talked about our values, our priorities and ensuring the future for our family without him,” she said.

“We have been honest and open with our three children, who are 20, 17 and 14 years old, and we don’t dance around the central fact of our lives: that he will not be here with us for an extended time.”