deb roush

I created this website to ignite a passion that I have ignored lately — my writing — and as an opportunity to share my history and stories with my children in a permanent way. To that end, it’s important to me to post this so I never forget the most meaningful writing I have ever done … the eulogy I delivered for our dear Danny just two months ago.

It’s an honor to be asked to talk about my family’s dearest friends, the Rankins, and to remember Danny with you tonight. It’s a privilege because while my family has so many amazing memories of Danny, I look out knowing you have equally as many, which is why Danny was so special. Kim reminded me that Danny wouldn’t want us sad tonight, and she’s right. If there was anyone who didn’t like tears – especially his Mom’s – it was him. Boiled down, what Danny liked – what he loved – were two things: Laughter and family. As families, when we were planning a get together, one of the first questions for us Roushes was, “Will Danny be there?” Not because the other three aren’t fantastic, but Danny was always the one who took it to the next level – sometimes even across the line – from a fun standpoint. I’m sure many of you have been in the room when Danny walked in. He greeted everyone with that huge, impossible-to-imitate smile, a bear hug or a firm handshake with his big, football player hands. He had impeccable Southern manners – always calling my dad “sir.” My husband Terry and I often spoke about how we hoped our son Kyle would grow to be like Danny – brilliant, a gentleman, someone who put family first, and someone – when he put his mind to something, always accomplished it.

Like when he told us he was smart enough to be in Mensa – then prepared for it and tested. But in true Danny style not only did he earn a spot in the club for the world’s smartest people – he was in the top percentile of “Mensans” … in a one percent club he was eligible to join … and then of course he popped over with a copy of his test score and stuck it on our refrigerator. He didn’t take himself too seriously, though, and didn’t allow you that luxury either. When Kyle – who Danny called Karl – proudly announced that he was #2 in his high school class – Danny immediately began a movie line campaign from Talledega Nights … Ricky Bobby texts and calls saying, “If you ain’t first, you’re last.”

When I started taking a mixed marshal art self-defense class and showed him my moves at U.S. pizza one night, he told me I looked like a pouncing cat. This led to countless harassing cat communication directed to Halle Berry – cat woman.

He would call with ridiculous jokes – and I would put him on speaker phone so Terry, Kyle and Rene (my daughter he called “Renoir”) could hear … and even if he bombed big time that enormous laugh would have us all giggling.

This past spring Emily and Kyle went to prom – just as friends – and Danny arrived for photos carrying a boom box on his shoulder playing love songs. And speaking of photos, Danny made them hilarious. Our families love a big, group photo with taken with the self-timer. Except after every shot, we would check to see if we got a good one, and inevitably Danny was doing something crazy. We usually had to separate him and try to put him near Dan, but even that didn’t’ really work.

Danny could be funny for hours. He would come over to play video games and Kyle and Danny would commandeer the couch with Danny taking control of a headset that allowed him to talk with others online. Kyle would be the one playing the game … he had a distinct advantage because Danny had the opposition in stitches with his one-liners. Then every once in a while you would hear, “Boys, boys, language …” I would hear this from the kitchen because somehow Danny typically dropped by around dinner time ….

It’s impossible to remember Danny without talking about his family, because with the Rankins, as many of us know, where one of them ends and the other one begins is often unclear, if that makes sense. Their family has strength and a bond like none other I know. Danny had a passionate love for his family – above all Emily. When Danny talked about Emily it was with pure admiration, adoration and respect. Over the last week, with Danny still here with us, I questioned, over and over, God’s plan. And though I’m not sure I completely understand it, I know this: Danny Rankin, in his last days here, did what he has always done. He brought friends and family together, he had us laughing, he shared his love of Jesus and gave some of us – me among them – a relationship with God we had longed for. Then, in his last gift to others, he donated his organs so countless lives could be saved.

Danny’s obituary said that when we lost Danny the earth became a little darker and Heaven brightened. A friend of Danny’s had posted that on Facebook, and it’s truly how it feels. We have great joy and enough memories of Danny to last a lifetime, and we will see him soon … but it’s just not going to be as much fun for us here without him.