Leon Milton Sealy, age 89, passed away on Wednesday, November 30, 2011 at the Ted Warthen Center, in the St. George, Utah, from causes due to old age. On Monday, December 5, 2011, family and friends came together to celebration his life—his graduation day!
Dad has returned home into the loving arms of his Heavenly Father. If you are wondering what he’s doing now, I know . . . because when I was a little girl dad used to tell me that when we went to heaven we would all get to do what we loved best in life. He’d say, “Don’t worry about me Linda, I’ll be up there fishin' and making donuts!” So there you go!
Whatever dad is doing now, I know he’s excited to be working again! Dad’s motto for success was, “Work, Work, Work!” Work was dad’s play! There is nothing he enjoyed more than working in his garden, cleaning out his fishpond, or digging a post hole. Playtime for dad was a day of fishing or logging in the mountains.
I remember one particular summer when my husband, Dale, and I decided to take our children on an afternoon boating trip to play in the shallow, warm water along the North Bear Lake shore. We packed a lunch, preparing to spend the afternoon away from our cabin. As usual, dad was outside chopping wood and I asked him if he’d like to come along. He said, “Why would you want to do that? We’ve got water here!”
“I know Dad,” I said, “but the water on the Idaho side is shallow and warm and the kids love to play there.” Reluctantly he decided to come along, and soon we were all on the North shore, playing in the water and having a great time.
I remember sitting on the beach beside Dad while we ate a sandwich together. He looked at me with a big Milt grin on his face and said, “So are we having fun yet Linda?”
I said, “Sure Dad! See how much fun the kids are having in the water?”
Then he laughed and said, “Are you sure it wouldn’t be more fun to be back home digging a post hole or planting a tree?” That was Dad. He loved to be outdoors working hard.
When I think of my father, I think of him as “a big fish” in the big fish pond of life. He just loved to fish. In our house the cost of material possessions were counted in dozens of donuts he’d need to make to pay for them, and jokes were related to fishing! His great sense of humor gave us laughter and the strength to endure the hardships and sorrows of life. When I think of my father I think of his big smile, the twinkle in his eye, and all of his funny sayings. No matter what happens in my life, I can always hear my dad’s voice in my head––the things he said, or would have said, in any given situation. For example, when talking about his posterity he’d say, “We need more Indians in this family. We have too many chiefs!” When bragging about his Grandchildren he’d say, “There’s not an ugly one in the bunch!” On my college graduation day he said, “Well congratulations Linda! But ya know . . . college graduates are some of the stupidest people I know––very little common sense!” And before he’d leave for work in the morning he’d pop his head in my little sister Loni’s room and say, “Well, ya going to amount to anything?” We hope he’s looking down on us now, seeing how great all his Indian Chiefs turned out.
When I think of my dad I recall the proud look he had on his face the day he and mom returned home from their LDS Church mission service. When I think of my father I think of a man that stood for honesty beyond reproach. He always took responsibility for his actions––his mistakes. I remember him saying, “I have no one to blame but myself. I did it to myself!” His Patriarchal Blessing said he would be “a help unto many people in showing them the right way to go, setting an example before all men—of the life of a true Latter-day Saint.” That was Dad.
Throughout my high schools years I worked in Bear Lake during my summers. Most of the time the family was at the lake, but once in a while it was just Dad and I. I remember after being alone for a few days I called home from work to see when they were coming back. “When are you coming back Dad?” I said.
Dad’s voice was reassuring over the phone. “Don’t worry Linda. I just wrote you a nice letter explaining everything. We’ll be there soon. And don’t forget to water the lawn!”
I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to get to the post office. Imagine! A letter from my dad! Dad wasn’t one to write letters––mom was the writer of the family. So you can imagine my excitement when I retrieved the long #10 business envelope from the post office, with my name on it. I ripped open the envelope revealing a small, yellow, ripped notepad sheet with the words: “Linda . . . Be there soon. Water lawn, Milt.” Dad was never one for small talk—he was direct and to the point.
I know that each of us are called home in the Lords time––when our mission is complete. Dad had several near death experiences before his actual death, but he was preserved in life until his mission was completed. Once Dad was involved in a terrible accident while on his way to work at Won-door Corporation. His lightweight truck was struck from behind on the freeway causing him to roll several times. The highway patrolman at the scene of the accident looked into the cab of Dad’s pickup truck and saw him laying on the floor with his eyes wide open. “You're alive!” the officer exclaimed.
“I believe I am!” was Dad’s reply. Later, when Dad went to claim his tools from the salvage yard, he was told that they had been sold because they thought that, “no one could have survived that wreck!”
After that Dad always said that, “When it's your time to go, it's your time! Not before!”
Only God knows when it’s our time. He is in charge. He gives us each breath. He is preserving each of us from day to day, lending us breath, that we may learn, grow, and love, and to serve one another. Dad was lovingly served by many willing hands in his declining years. He came to accept that service, and along with him, we are so grateful for the love and care he received. Surely there is a great mansion prepared in Heaven for such a man of love and strength—where he can continue to do great work among men, as a new fish in a Heavenly sea.
Dad’s younger brother, Ramon, has said that Dad was the “single most influence in his life—one of his real heros and a great role model.” I have to agree. He was my hero too.
I love you Dad. Work hard, and don’t forget to water the lawn! We’ll be there soon!
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