If you haven't heard, I lost my father on June 7th. So Sunday was my first Dad's Day without him. That day I decided not to hide under the covers, but ventured out and do my normal activities on Sunday...I went to church. I didn't hide when the tears kept coming even though I hate crying in public. I stood tall because that is how I could honor my dad, tears and all.
My dad has been sick for a very long time, and the Lord called him home. We think it was a massive heart attack but we didn't have an autopsy done, because it wouldn't change the fact that he was gone. I used up all my vacation time (worth it) to spend time with my mom and sister and to help with all the stuff that comes with the loss of a close loved one.
I was touched by the love and support, prayers and sympathy we received from so many people. I was honored to hear all the wonderful stories people had about my dad. He loved to laugh, play practical jokes, and just be "nuts" as my mom always said him.
Below is the obituary that was printed about him, with picture.
Randall L. Heady, 59, of Louisville, passed away suddenly on June 7, 2011 at Sts. Mary and Elizabeth Hospital. He was a retired quality assurance manager for Dawn Food Products. Randy was a member of Carlisle Avenue Baptist Church, the Gideon's, did delivery for Meal On Wheels, and worked for the Arch L. Heady & Sons Funeral Homes.
Let to cherish his memory are his loving wife of 32 years, Kay Clark Heady; daughters Amber Heady Smith (Andrew), Ashley Heady Bulldis (Brandon); brother, Calvin L. Heady (Janice); sister, Kathy Heady Clark (Richard) and numerous other extend family and friends.
His Celebration of Life Service will be on Saturday, June 11, 2011 at 10 a.m. at the Arch L. Heady at Resthaven Chapel, 4400 Bardstown Road with interment in Louisville Memorial Gardens West. A gathering of family and friends will be on Friday from 12-8 at the funeral home.
Anyone that knew Randy will always remember his infectious smile, his laughter, his always being there to lend a helping hand, and warm hear. He will be greatly missed.
(You can visit the Funeral home website to view this, the guest book, and slide show. http://http://obits.dignitymemorial.com/dignity-memorial/obituary.aspx?n=Randall-Heady&lc=2356&pid=151675422&mid=4701372&locale=en_US).
This was a nice tribute. And so were all the kind words spoken about my dad at the visitation and service. I believe the only negative thing said about my daddy was that he ate snickers bars when he wasn't supposed to. I will miss him greatly.
The following is a letter I wrote and had my parent's pastor read at the service. I knew I needed to say something about the man who shaped my life, but knew I couldn't be the one to actually read the words because I wouldn't have been able to choke them out.
First I want to express great appreciation for all the kind words, love, and support my family and I have received from everyone. It has meant the world to us to hear every one's stories and funny moments they shared with my father. Wow that sounds so formal...my dad.
I have so many stories and memories that shuffling through them has brought smiles and tears to me, and I would like to share some of my favorite with you. My dad had as you know a wonderful sense of humor, which I am glad that he passed on to me. Some of those pearls of "wisdom" that he said over the years included:
When I was a little kid looking through family photos, dad joked that he never wanted kids, I then pointed out "How come mom isn't in any of these?" And sure enough most of my baby pictures, dad has a grin plastered on his face and holding both of us, one in each arm.
I was a clumsy kid, I fell down a lot. Dad nicknamed me the band aid queen because band aids made me fell better about the cuts.
I know he didn't want his little girls to date, but he had special advice on "Dating"..An ugly guy with a car is 10 times better than a cute guy without one...at least the ugly guy can take you somewhere, he always said.
Many people know my dad loved practical jokes. And probably many of you here have been on the receiving end of those practical jokes. April fools day was always an interesting day in the Heady House-hold, from the "you have a big cut on your toe" to "mom burned a hole in the kitchen floor," he got us most years.
I have to thank you, dad, for all the things you (and mom) did over the years...
Thanks for all the games of matches and matches (memory), they taught me numbers and math, without it I would have never gotten where I am today.
Thank you for all the encouraging words of "Your not going to wear THAT are you?" You never would let us walk out of the house looking awful.
Thanks for all the stories at family dinners, I know my friends questioned why Heady dinners always lasted 2 hours, but those are some of the best memories I have.
Thanks for all the pep talks and brainstorming sessions. I know it broke your heart to let me go, but thank you for talking me into Arizona, because I am finally happy with the outcome.
Thank you for being a Godly influence and telling me "to never ruin my witness." That example and motto led me to Christ and back to Him, and to my husband. And Thank you for saying yes to that man you didn't know when he called you for my hand. He reminds me of you, and loves me the way you would have wanted.
And most of all daddy, thank you for being you, and always leaving us in stitches over all the crazy things you said or did. That is what I will miss most. Love you! (The printed version of this now lies in my dad's pocket so he can keep it with him).
The Celebration of Life service was nice and probably the hardest event I have ever had to attend. This beats showing up to clean out my desk after I got kicked out of grad school the first time, hands down. How do you say goodbye to some one who has been your support for 28 almost 29 years? How do you look at the body that is left and know that it is the last time you are going to see their face until you go meet Jesus yourself?
I feel (to quote Harry Potter) as if I will never be cheerful again. I can laugh, but it doesn't quite make it to my core. I know that is just the grief, but I wonder when I will ever be truly me again. Or do I become this new me that is different? And, Who does that look like?
