April 21, 2020

Tomorrow, Randy will be laid to rest, sent off on a new journey absent of pain, fear or suffering. Over the last several months, and most recently during the last few weeks, Ed has divided his time between work and Randy’s side until the authorities shut down all visiting. That separation made our hearts heavy, and filled us with fear that Randy might feel the anguish of isolation and abandonment. His lack of capacity to understand fully what was happening made the circumstance even more anxious.

Tributes and Homages; Eulogies all meant to express our loss, and to celebrate the life of the deceased. I’ve prepared several, always reflecting on the impact that the person had on my life. While I feel certain that Randy knew he was loved and admired, it is my own memories, my own personal feelings that I feel compelled to express at this time. My regret is that I may not have expressed my feelings enough before he left us. Isn’t that how we always feel? Did I say enough? Did I spend enough time?

When I was introduced to Randy, we were both in our late 20’s. I was a west Texas girl, recently moved to New Orleans where I was working for Freeport Oil, trying to adjust to this new culture, and desperately hoping that I could eventually feel comfortable, welcomed, and received into this vibrant new place. One of the first people to mentor me in my job, show me the sights, introduce me to the other side of the tourist traps – the real people, places, traditions, values and customs was Ed. It was his humor, his intelligence, his “Cajun-ness”, but most of all, it was his love of family that attracted me. And it was the fact that his family so readily embraced me, welcomed me into their home and into their lives, that sealed my destiny. In the mix was Randy.

Randy still lived at home, was friendly, approachable and always demonstrated a vulnerable, passive quietness. While he was never the one to assert, he was always the first to laugh, the first to ask about you – how are you, how was the job, how was my mom, my dad, my sisters... The family seldom included him in serious discussions, and it was evident that his helpless nature accepted, also nurtured.

Due to circumstances too detailed to share, Randy came to live with me and James after Katrina took his mother. With support from other family members, we maintained a healthy environment with a structured routine that made his life comfortable, and his relationships with family in tact.

Despite we were two adults, it was always not far from my mind that Randy was in need of care, monitoring, counseling, guidance, …. and respect. Without denying him, as I would a child, I would simply “hide” the sugar, the cookies, the candy which he had a tendency to partake with abandonment. But, his appetite for sweets was endearing, and his disposition always polite. This is when Randy’s contribution to my life began.

He taught me patience and gave me a perspective of life I know I would not have had. I learned about the effects his mental condition had on him, but also on me, on James, Ed, and Emily. With experience comes insight. God opened my heart to receive this insight. Would I have the empathy I have, the understanding of mental illness, the absolute value of family, the appreciation of life and the blessings it gives us, if not for Randy? To know and experience his purity, his vulnerability, his child-like trust, his definition of love, his refusal to hate, carry grudges or resentments, and to love all of us equally and unconditionally puts me to shame. It should put all who love him to shame. Those among us who claim religion, who hold ourselves up for our “good deeds”, our pious roles among men, our claim to follow Jesus’ example should pause for self-reflection.

While I can only speak for myself, I need to look no further for inspiration, for the soul’s best example than to our Randy. It is said that there are two most important days in your life. The day you are born, and the day you discover why. May I so boldly say, and be so presumptuous to imply that while Randy may have never known his purpose, it might have been to show us what we may be missing – what we are denying ourselves; what Jesus really meant when he told us to love unconditionally, to forgive, to trust, to hold no hate or desire no revenge. Maybe I am not clear about my own purpose, I do know what purpose Randy had in my life, and for that I am grateful.