In Memory of




Obituary for Deborah Joan Suhr

Deborah Joan Suhr
July 1, 1949 - March 22, 2024

Deborah Joan Suhr (nee Skinner) passed away on March 22, 2024, in Lindenhurst, New York, at the age of 74 surrounded by loved ones. Born on July 1, 1949, in Rockville Centre, New York, Deborah was a beloved wife, mother, stepmother, grandmother "Mimi," aunt, and cherished friend.

Deborah will be deeply missed by her husband Bill, son Stephen and his wife Amanda, daughter Michelle and her husband Joseph, son Will and his wife Courtney, stepdaughter Noreen, stepdaughter Natalie and her husband Brian, as well as her many beloved grandchildren, step-grandchildren, nieces, nephews, cousins, and friends. She was preceded in death by her mother Alice, father Walter, and siblings Marylu, Judy, and Tom.

Deborah was a dedicated teacher at Imagine Early Learning Center at Courtyard Kids Daycare in Central Islip, and a compassionate nurse at The New York Foundling. Her passion for caring and nurturing extended beyond her professional life into her personal relationships.

Deborah graduated from Lindenhurst High School in 1967, and pursued a nursing program at The New York Foundling in New York City.

Deborah loved her daily bike rides with her husband, reading, and spending time in Montauk. Above all else, she cherished the time she spent with her family.

Services to honor and remember Deborah's life will be held at Lindenhurst Funeral Home, 424 S Wellwood Ave, Lindenhurst, NY 11757, with visitation on March 26, 2024, from 2-4pm and 7-9pm. A Funeral Mass will take place on March 27, 2024, at 11am at Our Lady of Perpetual Help, 210 South Wellwood Avenue, Lindenhurst, NY 11757.

In lieu of flowers, contributions in Deborah's memory may be made to the Alzheimer's Association at

Lindenhurst Funeral Home in Lindenhurst, New York, is assisting with the funeral arrangements.

Stop all the Clocks, Cut Off the Telephone

“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message She is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

She was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”

- W.H. Auden