He wouldn’t want nor does he need a typical obituary; in fact, if there were a way to have this printed on the cover of Rolling Stone, he would have arranged for it years ago. Husband, father, grandfather, master chef, rock star, Hall-of-Famer, and life of the party (that he was most likely responsible for throwing), David Keith Kennedy was a man with many hats—each with a matching pair of ridiculous boots.
He left fifty-three years worth of hilarious, obnoxious, amazing, beautiful memories behind when he passed away from heart complications on Sunday evening, December 28, at Wesley Medical Center. Many of these memories were created over several decades at Howard Industries where he served as Director of Logistics. Even more were made with members of his church family whom he served diligently in the forms of food, music, and fellowship; even more importantly, he served his God in all that he did.
The most numerous and precious of these memories belong to his family. As atypical as his obituary, so was the word ‘family’ to Keith Kennedy. Family extended far beyond bloodlines and last names. He spent his entire life creating a close-knit group of people—in the Sigma Nu house, Parkway Heights UMC, The Open Door, The End Zone, etc.—who felt and continue to feel the power of his love. He is survived by his “smokin’-hot” wife, Paige, the love of his life and the center of his world; by his son, Cody, his first child and his spitting image both inside and out; by three daughters—Kelly, who he raised to be a smart, outspoken, wonderful woman and mother, Hannah, who always shared his love of rock and roll and who he always reminded deserved the same love he felt for her mother, and Nicole, who was the other pea in his pod. He is also survived by his two grandchildren, Drew and Kylie, who have already learned so much from “Papa Keith.”
Keith Kennedy taught all of his children so much, sometimes with words he spoke, but often by example. Find what you want and take it. It’s okay to be wrong. A father loves his children no matter what they do. Breaking rules isn’t one of the things you should worry about; getting caught is. It doesn’t matter who likes you—if you’re being the best, truest version of yourself, the people who love you will so greatly outshine the rest, you won’t even notice them. You can still be one hell of a man even with a tramp stamp and six Crock Pots. Love the one you love. Really love them. As hard as you can.
And finally, ‘if you wanna get to Heaven, you gotta raise a little hell!”
Services to be held at Parkway Heights United Methodist Church on Wednesday, December 31st, 2014. Visitation is at 11 am; the funeral service is at 1 pm.
In lieu of flowers, please send donations to Rice and Beans Ministry at Parkway Heights United Methodist Church.