Life, Death and Friendship – Rip Chris Dufresne

My phone rang at 9:12 am last Tuesday morning and I saw that it was the son of a good friend calling. The initial joy I experienced at seeing his name soon turned to curiosity. Was my friend’s son having a problem that his father suggested he visit with me, or maybe his father’s back pain was getting worse and he wanted the name of the chiropractor he mentioned earlier?

One thought that didn’t cross my mind was that she was calling to tell me that her father had passed away unexpectedly the night before. Chris was active and much fitter than most 62-year-olds, so this news was not only shocking, it seemed unfair.

My personal Achilles heel has always been dealing with death. This is probably the result of losing my mother when she was 3 years old and my father a year after I graduated from college. As much as I struggle to deal with deaths, there is a silver lining… It has given me a perspective that has taught me to take the time to appreciate the people in my life more. I often tell my clients, ‘There are two great self-inflicted pains in life. The short-term pain of self-discipline and the never-ending pain of regret.

Years ago, I began a somewhat unorthodox practice of expressing gratitude to the people in my life. This is both to let them know how lucky I am to have them in my life, and to protect me from having any regrets when they are gone. This is the first time someone has passed away before expressing that gratitude. I may even be subconsciously writing this blog in an effort to make up for that mistake.

I have no doubt that Chris valued our friendship as much as I did, but I’ve found that expressing it more directly often surprises people and I’m sorry I didn’t have the opportunity to do so for Chris. So many nuances in friendships aren’t a big deal to one party, but they mean a lot to the other party and I would have liked to share some of those moments Chris probably never thought twice about that still resonate with me.

Chris was the national college football reporter for the LA Times and Tribune Company for, I think, over 20 years. He also covered many other sports, including golf and the Olympics. He was a brilliant writer and used his sense of humor for the benefit of his readers. He also had a gift for the human side of sports and used it to make you feel like you were right there with him sharing the experience. I recommend you read some of his old articles on the LA Times website if you have piqued his interest.

Chris was so self-confident that he enjoyed taking chances on his preseason rankings, rarely picking the best team by consensus for his number one. He rarely got it right, but he often fell short and almost always discovered big-name trainers before they were big-name names.

Chris was genuine and all about good people. I saw him write very fair and positive stories about people I know he didn’t particularly care about as human beings. Chris treated people as individuals and enjoyed interacting with people at all levels. Like all good friends, he brought me perspectives I hadn’t considered.

Although sports were an integral part of our friendship, they soon took a backseat in our lives. An especially memorable moment we shared was the unlikely event that each of us had a child who suddenly and unexpectedly ended up in Children’s Hospital at the same time. Although this was an experience neither of us wanted to go through, it was nice to have someone to talk to who was going through a similar difficult time with you.

Like all good parents, Chris downplayed the pain he felt, but he couldn’t hide the pain he felt when a loved one suffered. Chris’s love for his wife and children was palpable and my heart goes out to them.

Although Chris has physically left us, the profound impact Chris left on my life and the lives of so many others will live on with us. Thanks for making me a better person Chris! I love you brother.

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