Diane Ruth Lacount Desruisseaux

December 31, 1939 – October 7, 2026

On December 31, 1939, Diane Ruth Lacount was born—and the whole world celebrated. Or maybe that was a party to usher in a new decade. Either way, it was a heck of a reason to celebrate.

Diane was born to Dr. Reginald Gage Lacount and M. Irlene Lacount and grew up in Wellesley, Massachusetts, alongside her brother, Donald. Diane and Donald were raised in a home filled with faith, music, and Sunday dinners—traditions and values that live on in the family today.

Diane attended the University of Connecticut, where she studied to become a physical therapist—and where she met Harvey Desruisseaux. It was a classic case of opposites attracting, and they were both smitten. They met as members of the UConn Marching Band, where Diane played flute and Harvey played bass drum. Along with two friends, they went on to form what is now the celebrated UConn Pep Band. Fittingly, their story together began with music, friendship, and a lot of UConn Husky spirit. During summer breaks, Harvey sent Diane letters with a stick of gum tucked inside each one. When she asked why, he explained that he simply couldn’t fit a flower in the envelope. They married in 1963 and built a life on love, faith, and partnership. They found a spiritual home at Gilead Congregational Church in Hebron, where they worshiped for decades and created the Garden of Remembrance. Harvey’s ashes were interred there in 2021, and Diane will now be reunited with her love. Oh, the joy they must feel sharing their first waltz in nearly five years.

Diane was known by different names depending on the circle she was in. Diane. DeeDee. Dee. Di. Those who were most blessed called her Mom and Jamma.

To Laura Jane, Cheryl Irlene, and Amy Beth, she was Mom—and she taught them to be strong, independent, and true to themselves. She supported them, nurtured them, disciplined them, and loved them fiercely. She was beautifully human— genuine, loyal, imperfect, and completely their Mom.

She became a “boy mom” when she welcomed her sons-in-law—Paul, Ray, and Carl—into the family. We lost Paul to cancer in 2024, bringing a new level of grief to our family. In the darkest of times, we’ve learned to lean into each other, to make room for the grief, and to remember the joy.

Diane and Harvey were the proud Jamma and Papa to Kayla Rae Marston, Jonathan David Galli, Andrew Douglas Harger, Ashley Elizabeth Harger, Jennifer Michelle Gorski, and Joseph Carl Gorski. Their grandchildren have wonderful memories of weekends at Jamma and Papa’s—hours spent splashing in the pool, family time around the dinner table, and, most importantly, each developing their own unique bond with their grandparents.

Diane was further blessed with great-grandchildren: Ethan Raymond, Noah Jon, and Beckett Alexander Marston. Oh, the stories we’ll share with this young generation.

Mom was always present for the moments that mattered. She was front and center for every show her three girls—known collectively as the 3Ds—put on in front of the living room fireplace. The 3Ds never landed a record contract or achieved worldwide fame, but Mom and Dad were their biggest fans, applauding every lip-synced performance to Helen Reddy, The Carpenters, the Kingston Trio, or whatever other music happened to be playing. And there was always music playing in the house on Walnut Drive.

Mom was a teacher of all practical things. One of her most enduring lessons came at the beach: when to go over a wave and when to go under. It was a science she had perfected, and we listened for her last-minute call — “OVER” or “UNDER” — and reacted accordingly. Maybe it was more than a lesson in navigating waves. Maybe it was a metaphor for life: know what’s coming, make your choice, and keep going. Oh, who are we kidding? It was a lesson in keeping your bathing suit in place.

Somewhere in our family bylaws, it must be written that no daughter, son-in-law, or grandchild could officially be declared sick until the call to Mom had been made. We didn’t always need medical advice. We needed the validation, reassurance, and comfort that came from hearing her voice and knowing someone understood exactly what we were going through. We needed Mom, and she never let us down.

Mom loved being outdoors in every season. Hiking, backpacking, skiing, snowshoeing, gardening. She loved her gardens and her flowers, and there was always something growing, blooming, being planted, or being tended. It was the simple things: a walk in the woods, a good (or bad!) book, a cup of tea.

In addition to her daughters and their families, Diane leaves behind her brother Donald Lacount and his wife, Barbara, and brother-in-law Walter Desruisseaux, Sr. (“Big Walt”) and his wife, Monita. She leaves nieces and nephews Suzanne, Steven, Corinne, Walt Jr. (“Little Walt”), and Denise.

She also leaves the family she chose in our longtime neighbors and friends Faye “Midge” Lee (& the late William “Jimmy” Lee) and their daughters Fern, Wendy, and Gale.

Perhaps the easiest way to describe Diane is by the things that will forever remind us of her.

Dee’s beans – ne’er a picnic or family function will ever be the same without them.

The good china – why wait for a holiday? Isn’t a Tuesday enough reason to celebrate?

Thanksgiving pies – Pumpkin. Pumpkin chiffon. Apple. Lemon meringue.

The Tennessee Waltz – how effortlessly Dad led Mom around the dance floor.

A family sporting event, concert, recital, or show – you could always find her in the audience.

A good yoga session – is there such a thing as a bad one?

A big green station wagon – she put some miles on carting us to dance, gymnastics and music lessons.

“Jack Banana.” – Mom’s colorful response when another driver had the audacity to cut her off.

“Crummy Buttons.” – the answer to the dreaded “What’s for dinner?” question, usually delivered with just enough exasperation to let us know we had asked one time too many.

Daisies – Daisies and Tulips, oh what a pair.

A church choir.

The ocean.

A friend. The way to have a true friend is to be a true friend.

A John Denver song.

The Rainbow Connection – the lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Her daughters will carry with them the very best of both their parents: their strength, independence, faith, hard work, humor, and above all, their love of family.

Although there will be no public memorial service for Mom, we invite you to celebrate her in your own way: take a walk in the woods, sit on the beach and watch the surf, pour a cup of tea and read a book, or listen to your favorite music. And wherever you find beauty, music, friendship, family, or a little bit of joy, you’ll find Mom there, too.