The Eulogy I Should Have Given for Dennis. R. Deblois

You reach that stage in life where you are attending more funerals than weddings. And the former is why we have gathered today. We are here to say “Goodbye” to Dennis.

I don’t remember the actual moment I met Den, even though he had an imposing presence at 6’2”, two hundred plus pounds with a personality to match. It was probably during my freshman year in college at a mixer sponsored by the science department. Whenever it was, an immediate friendship was forged. Without any hesitation or effort, it morphed into a brotherhood lasting over forty years.

He was from New Hampshire; I was an Ohioan, so we had the shared desire of not pursuing a higher education on a campus requiring snow removal four months out of the year. Plus, although we both grew up landlocked, we had a kindred affinity for the ocean. Attending the University of Miami satisfied both these requirements.

After graduation, he got married and remained in South Florida. I was disillusioned and moved back North. But we remained in touch. Upon my return to Miami two years later, he and his wife welcomed me back with open arms like a prodigal son. We picked up where we left off without skipping a beat.

For however long you knew Dennis, whether a portion, a majority, or the entirety of your life, you were fortunate. The duration was irrelevant because his welcoming warmth never waned. Your days were brighter, which made your months fuller which meant your years were richer. Dennis elevated you. His impact was profound because he was genuine. He was a constant in a very inconsistent world. Den could have taught a MasterClass or given a TED speech on the fundamentals of being a great friend.

In Den you had an ally. He shared your triumphs without stealing the spotlight. He was a confidante who pulled you up without being judgmental. He’d give you an honest opinion or a differing viewpoint in a way that didn’t belittle you. And he knew things. He soaked up information on a variety of subjects. He’d have the answers to your questions, no matter how obscure the inquiry seemed. And if he didn’t know the answers, he’d make a point to find them for you. Dennis was Google before Google was Google.

He fully embraced life and sought experiences which he wanted to share with others. He led the way to adventures, whether off the beaten path or right into the thick of things. If anyone was hesitant, he encouraged/dragged them along because he knew good times were to be had. He was usually correct too, because there were enumerable good times. Much to your liver’s detriment, but good times, nonetheless.

I am eternally grateful for sharing so many years with him. Although our journey reached its conclusion, well before I would have liked, his treasured guidance remains. I can take comfort in knowing I’m the person I am today because of meeting Dennis.