Jill Ann DeBellis

Born March 16, 1953 in Chicago, Illinois
Departed March 19, 2024 in Melbourne Village, Florida

Jill was born and raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois. She died on March 19, 2024 in Melbourne Village, Florida from a long-term illness. She was 71. Survived by her husband, Rick; sister-in-law’s, Carolyn, Marie, and Teri; brother-in-law’s, Mike and Joe; nieces, Amy, Sue, and Jen; nephews, Bob, Tom, Todd, Doug, and Jeff; all of their spouses along with many grandnieces and grandnephews, and preceded in death by her brother-in-law, Bob. She was truly loved.

Growing up her mother, Coreen, was a nurse with alternating day and night shifts. Her grandparents shared in the joy of watching her at home. They called her “Sunshine”. But I knew that before she told me. I saw it in her pool blue eyes and kind face when we first met. Of course it was “Sunshine”. She was subtle. When we walked together, she would lightly touch my shoulder and forearm nudging me gently to show her approval of something I said or did. It was her way of saying I love you.

Children would not be in our future, because Jesus had another plan. He bedeviled us with cats – caretakers of his innocent creators. Jill loved cats. I learned to love cats through her. We brought home over thirty cats during our fifty years together including a few dogs sprinkled in here and there. She was a great mother; fed them, hugged them, took them to the vet. She allowed me to change and clean the litter.

Jill loved making beaded bracelets and necklaces. She would spend countless hours at Michael’s and JoAnn’s picking and sorting through beads until she found just the right size and colors that fit her next idea. They were never her bracelets or necklaces. Well, maybe just a few. She loved to give them to family and friends. After my mother died, she made memorial bracelets for all the women in the family from a pearl necklace my mother fondly wore.

She told me the happiest day of her life was when we bought our house in Melbourne Village. I remember watching her from afar as we were shown the rooms by the realtor. Jill was busily writing in her notebook about each room and visualizing how it would look after we moved in. She said, “I want to live here forever”. She died in her house, peacefully – forever always comes too soon.

We’ve said our last good-byes before she returns to our Father. The irrevocable agreement he gave her many years ago is due. The love of my life must be given back to her rightful owner for safe keeping. But joyfully, I’ll see her again when my agreement comes due.

So now I must rest my pen for I hear grief at my doorstep. He is a transient and in time will be replaced by the fondest memories of my beloved wife, Jill.

Godspeed “Sunshine”