|Deborah (Gail) Lincoln Lear, 1942, Philadelphia, PA|
|Happy baby! (spring or summer 1941)|
|Christmas 1941 (she looks like my Maggie...)|
As the evening progressed, her breathing became more and more labored as her chest cavity and then her lungs filled with fluid. My brother and I went home to grab some dinner and a shower but a nurse called back almost immediately, telling us this was the end. We had just another two hours with her, each of us on one side of her holding a hand and telling her how much we loved and thanked her, and my dad by her head or softly rubbing her feet. She was heavily sedated by then and it was sometimes excruciating to watch her struggle a bit more each moment to catch even the shallowest breath. I kept telling her it was okay to let go, that we would miss her terribly but would take care of things; people probably say this more to have something to say than anything, but it was so hard watching her struggle so and not be able to do a thing to help her.
|A high-school portrait, 1954 or so|