Randy James Bryant

I was given the responsibility of a nearly impossible task: writing my daddy's obituary. It is a responsibility that I would not let a single soul take from me. However, it is also surreal to try and encapsulate my entire daddy and what he meant to so many in something as simple as a few words. But nevertheless…

Randy James Bryant was born September 10, 1954 to the late Richard and Ida Bryant. He was one of 4 siblings, with his older brother Terry and his 2 younger sisters, Denise and Dennette. My Daddy had a beautiful childhood. The wisdom of his father and the warmth of his mother are characteristics he carried with him for the rest of his life.

As beautiful as his life was, I think the argument could be made that it was not until he met my mother that he really began to live. He met Christine on an escalator in the most crowded airport in the world, sounds like fate… does it not? It should be known that the most important title to my dad in his life was being a husband to my Mom. And truly, what a husband he was, and what a love they had. There was no shortage of love letters, hands being held, or spontaneous slow dances within their 33 years of marriage. I do not know exactly how many men get teary eyed talking about how much they love their wives, but I am certain that number is not nearly as high as it should be. And yet, Randy did… and rather often I might add.

One of the last things that my daddy ever told me was that it was his destiny to be a father to my brothers and me. And what a father he was. My parents' first born was Gregory. A beautiful, tiny baby boy that was here and gone on the same day. Such a loss is something a parent never forgets, but carries with them for the rest of their lives. My parents learned how precious and cherished life was from that moment on, and they acted as such.

They were then blessed with my big brother, William. William will be 31 this December 30. He gave my daddy his first and only grandbaby, Addison, with his wife Stephanie. William gave our dad a sense of very evident pride. From his skill as a baseball player to his incredibly high IQ, Randy bragged about his son as often as he could. There was an abundance of not only love but friendship between William and our Dad. Both equally brilliant men with an almost unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Their shared brilliance was something you could just sit back and watch them discuss in awe. Not to mention the friendly, but very real trivia competitions they had nearly every time they were in the same room… something we will all miss.

And then, nearly eight years after having my brother, there was me, Sophie. His "mini-me." I love being his mini-me, a Randy Junior of sorts. I love the way my Daddy taught me to be unapologetically myself. To make others smile. And to take care of the love in your heart. The loss of my daddy is something I can feel deep down to my core, it is an indescribable pain. I will miss the feeling of my daddy's hugs. His voice when he called me, "Sophie-doe." The way he looked at my Mom. And how he wasn't too proud to show his son an abundance of affection. But I must remind myself every time I feel this pain that how lucky am I to have loved someone so much that their loss can be felt so deeply? Having Randy as my daddy is the blessing of a lifetime.

My dad could be generous, bossy, cheesy, silly, over-the-top, and so much more. But he embodied every single quality that could describe him in a way that was so perfect. He is the best man I have ever met and he was understandably abundantly loved. There is not a single person that had the pleasure of knowing him that does not feel this loss. How could they not? RJB was one of a kind. I hope one thing anyone reading can take away from this, it is that my daddy was beautiful, in every sense of the word. And he lived his life in complete abundance, and it was beautiful as well. In memory of Randy please visit