The husband of a woman from Connecticut accused of killing their three children says he forgives his wife and his family was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Patrick Clancy's statement about the Massachusetts tragedy appeared Saturday on a fundraising site to assist with medical bills, funeral services and legal help. The site had raised more than $850,000 of its $1 million goal by early Monday morning.

His wife, Lindsay Clancy, is facing two counts of murder and other charges after police say their daughter, Cora, 5, and their son Dawson, 3, were strangled last week inside the family home in Duxbury, Mass., a coastal town about 30 miles south of Boston. They were pronounced dead at a hospital.

On Friday, the youngest child, 7-month-old Callan, also died. Authorities have not yet commented on further charges.

Clancy, whose maiden name was Musgrove, graduated from Quinnipiac University in Hamden in 2012 with a bachelor's degree in biology, according to John Morgan, associate vice president for public relations for the school. He declined to say anything about her academic record or involvement in campus life.

A Lyman Hall High School official confirmed Friday that Clancy graduated in 2007 from the school in Wallingford where neighbors say her parents still live.

"It's fair to say for the district that our thoughts and prayers are with the family at this time," said Fran Thompson, assistant superintendent for school personnel.

Lindsay Clancy attacked the baby before jumping from a second-floor window at the home, investigators said. Emergency responders found her and the children unconscious with obvious signs of trauma. An arrest warrant had been issued on Wednesday for Clancy on two counts of homicide and three each of strangulation and assault and battery with a deadly weapon.

Clancy, who is a labor and delivery nurse at Massachusetts General Hospital, is being treated at a Boston hospital and her arraignment has not yet been scheduled.

Patrick Clancy wrote about his deep love for his family and favorite memories of them, including the love at first sight he felt for his wife and how they began each morning with a passionate hug.

"She's recently been portrayed largely by people who have never met her and never knew who the real Lindsay was," he wrote on the GoFundMe page. "Our marriage was wonderful and diametrically grew stronger as her condition rapidly worsened. I took as much pride in being her husband as I did in being a father and felt persistently lucky to have her in my life." Clancy did not elaborate on his wife's condition.

He later added, "I want to ask all of you that you find it deep within yourselves to forgive Lindsay, as I have. The real Lindsay was generously loving and caring towards everyone — me, our kids, family, friends and her patients. The very fibers of her soul are loving. All I wish for her now is that she can somehow find peace."

Donors, including one who said she suffered from postpartum depression, offered words of support on the GoFundMe fundraising site.

"I fully 100% believe in postpartum psychosis," said the woman, who said she thought of throwing her colicky baby against the wall when she suffered from postpartum depression. "It's possible to just snap because your brain is not in the right place. I feel for you and I feel for Lindsay. You are setting a beautiful example by forgiving her publicly and shining a light on a subject matter that women need to talk about and have resources for."

Patrick Clancy wrote that he appreciates such messages.

"The warmth I've received from the community is palpable and your generosity gives me hope that I can focus on some sort of healing. I've seen all of your messages and contributions, including some from people I haven't seen in over a decade and many I've never met. I see and appreciate everyone of you," he wrote.

He also described to nightmare he is living through.

"The shock and pain is excruciating and relentless," he wrote. "I'm constantly reminded of them and with the little sleep I get, I dream about them on repeat. Any parent knows, it's impossible to understand how much you will love your kids until you have them. The same goes for understanding the devastation of losing them. Cora, Dawson, and Callan were the essence of my life and I'm completely lost without them."

In his post, Patrick Clancy described each of his children and some of his fondest memories of them.

"Cora was a big girl and would simply walk downstairs. I can still vividly picture her coming into the living room each morning with her hair in a mess, smile on her face. We always started our days together, reading books, cuddling up on the couch, and playing with magnet tiles. I loved taking them places, whether it was scooting at Chandler elementary, vacation, skiing, out on the boat, or to Duxbury Beach, one of our favorite places on earth. They gave me purpose and I never took it for granted. There is now a massive void where that purpose once was," Clancy wrote. "Cora had an infectious laugh and was stunningly beautiful. She was the cautious one, but it was really because she was so caring."

Dawson, he said, had "beautiful, bold, brown eyes that beamed with friendship. He was naturally humorous and generous beyond the norm of a typical toddler, always willing to share his toys with others. For all the love he received, he always gave back more. His best quality was his pure kindness. He loved trucks, tractors, dinosaurs, Paw Patrol, 'worker guys' and being outside. He was adventurous and mischievous and enjoyed causing trouble, which he typically found hilarious. He was also remarkably smart. ... He would hug me tighter than most adults and every night he told me in consistent words at bedtime, without fail, 'goodnight dada, I love you.'"

"Callan was our easy going child," Clancy wrote of the baby. "I always said it was because he was the third child — he had to adapt and he did easily. He was born with hardly any fuss and was by far our best sleeper. He was just an incredibly happy and vibrant baby, constantly smiling. Our nickname for him was 'Happy Callan.' He was sitting on his own and you could tell he was enjoying his growing independence as he would grab any object within reach. Sometimes he joined my Microsoft calls in the background, playing in his jumpy. I would keep my camera on, too proud to leave it off. He started saying 'Dada' whenever I walked in the room. The last moment we had together was our routine. I would come up from my office at the end of the day and swing him between my legs while he laughed and smiled. If I was ever having a bad day, Callan always knew how to heal me. Perhaps that's why he held on a little longer — to spare me whatever pain he could."

The Associated Press and staff writer Caroline Tien contributed to this story.