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side always, would never leave him, but that he must now surrender, as I was giving him back to God, did he relax a little. Strange that I could penetrate his consciousness when noone else could, and a miracle that he had 45 minutes midway in that 9-day period when he was coherent and we could talk about necessary things. Except for rasping "my darlings" at intermittent periods, his last words were to assure me that the best thing that ever happened to him was when I married him, he couldn't get his thoughts together no matter how valiantly he struggled or how utterly frustrated he felt. He couldn't swallow worth a darn after we returned from Rochester Nov. 21 and his mind became a wandering unable to do his bidding. But I am thankful he could still relax under sedatives and that he didn't go beyond the point where medication couldn't relieve his pain.

   Jack, there are a lot of things he worried about in his diary - he said I could and should read it if he died.   He (and rightly so) didn't want such things as Northern Light etc. to fall  into