Deborah Dahlseid
Deborah Dalseid
Deborah Clare Robottom Dahlseid died peacefully in her sleep at the Coronado Retirement Village in Coronado, California on June 24th, 2025. Born in Plainfield, New Jersey on April 23, 1943, she was the daughter of James Arthur Robottom and Mildred Cross Robottom and was predeceased by her loving older sister Lynne Jacques and brother-in-law Windsor Jacques. Debbie leaves behind her beloved husband, Ronald William Dahlseid; her loving sons and daughter-in-laws James William Mercer and Debra McGuire Mercer, and Charles Andrew Mercer and Elizabeth (Lisa) Rowland Mercer; her wonderful step-son and step-daughter-in-law Erik Ronald Dahlseid and Leslie Rachael Dahlseid, and her dear step-daughter-in-law Susan Dahlseid Donovan. She adored her grandchildren and they adored her: Ryan James Dahlseid, Julia Rose Mercer, Kate Elisabeth Mercer, and William Rowland Mercer.
Debbie was born and raised on the East Coast, but was a West Coaster through and through. A proud graduate of Connecticut College, she first fell in love with the Golden State of California while living with her first husband Lee Mercer on the Camp Pendleton Marine Corps Base in the mid-to-late 1960’s. After his completion of service, the young couple moved back East to rear their two sons Jim and Charlie in rural New Hampshire. Debbie and Lee may not have perfected ‘Back to the Earth’ living but at least gave it a good post-college try. There were many family adventures in the rugged lakes and mountains, but it almost seemed inevitable in the 1970’s social gestalt that a 1960’s-type early marriage could not last. Following an amicable divorce, Debbie could not ignore the siren call of America’s so-called ‘Finest City’, and, after a few years in Massachusetts as a single Mom raising her teenage sons, she eventually made her return and found her perfect match in Ron, a sun-worshipping, easy-going West-Coaster also seeking a second chance at love. They initially lived in a modest house in Ocean Beach, but eventually bought their dream house up on the beautiful bluffs of Point Loma. Perched high above the Pacific, the stunning views and lovely gardens were a true paradise.
Debbie was an avid gardener and tended her flower beds with great care. When in full bloom, her nestled backyard exploded into a color wheel oasis. On most days that is where you would find her, cozied up with a good book and getting tan while sipping a cool drink. On other days you might find her playing Scrabble at the beach with Ron, getting even more tan, and cooling off by boogie-boarding with Ron and any excited family visitors in the soothing waves at Torrey Pines State Park. This was also the place she visited when she needed a smooth-polished stone for her garden, and in the early days before rock-Prohibition she would fill a backpack and make Ron lug it to the car. She may have even done this after the law was passed, but we’ll never tell!
Debbie was never happier than when her sunny days of idyllic leisure ended with a trip to a local plant shop or to a local Mexican restaurant for heaping tinfoil-covered dishes of delicious food and a cold Margarita. To pay for these delights, she worked long hours as a software engineer at Arinc Corporation. Hers was a lifelong journey of learning. When her kids were young, she worked as their School Librarian in New Hampshire’s public school system. In the early 80’s she was part of the Route 128 technology boom in Massachusetts, a scene that rivaled Silicon Valley and gave Debbie the confidence to take her talents out West. Debbie took great pride in her work and in being part of the working world, valuing her skills and independence and never liking to play second fiddle in a patriarchal world. She could be feisty when pushed, but possessed a gentle spirit and soft-tone that always put those around her at ease. Her kind-hearted humor could remove tension from any room, even when she was playfully giving Ron orders.
Debbie was enamored of her city, and friends and relatives could always expect special treatment each and every visit. She was a member of the San Diego Zoo, and also dearly enjoyed the Wild Animal Park, Sea World, Old Town, Mission Bay Park, and the Ocean Beach Antique Stores. She somehow created itineraries without stress, casual suggestions for your day that might or might not play out, and like a true Southern Californian she was flexible with plans and always ready to pivot to something else. This was especially true during adventures with her wide-eyed grandchildren, who might find themselves in the Cabrillo tidepools in the morning, the USS Midway flight deck at noon, LegoLand in the afternoon, and Cheetah races in the evening. Days visiting Grandma Deb in Point Loma always ended with a feeling of sun-soaked, cool-breeze enchantment, and not just because of the perfect weather. There was an easy-going charm that she cultivated, and even in Winter she created an Endless Summer vibe that was impossible to resist.
Debbie was sharp as a tack her entire life but even at the very end–when hospice nurses began to describe her as ‘delightfully’ confused–she was able to hold wonderfully connecting conversations with those who loved her. She somehow maintained a twinkling sense of amusement throughout a life that was not always easy or fair, and through good times and bad she sought to create beauty in both her relationships and in her gardens. She was an avid reader of literature, a loyal fan of Star Trek, a devoted cat owner, a truly amazing cook, a loving wife, mother and grandmother, and a true example of how to live with grace and easy-going relaxation. She was the Queen of generosity throughout her long life, bestowing surprise-gift boxes at holiday-time and cleaning out her pantry to load up a car whenever a special visitor prepared to depart.
In her 82 years of life, Debbie has left an unfading mark on those who she cherished and who cherished her in return. As the saying goes, you never forget how people make you feel, and to be in Debbie’s presence was to feel accepted and beloved in the most honest, down-to-Earth way imaginable. She will be dearly missed and never forgotten by those whose lives she brightened each and every day. May her yard’s beautiful flowers be forever a’bloom in God’s garden.
In lieu of flowers, memorial donations can be made online to the Point Loma Garden Club or at PO Box 6382, San Diego, CA 92166-6382.