FRPLG
11-29-2007, 12:43 AM
I am acutely aware that we all grieve in different ways and with different timetables. I have found myself throughout the day wondering when the rawness of losing Sean Taylor will finally fade. As fleeting memories of Sean would sneak into my thoughts during a meeting or while writing an Email so too would a deep sadness and eventually the shear desire just to forget it all. But it was after reading the article on Team Chaplain Brett Fuller that I finally realized what my path to acceptance would be. I intend this post to bring my pain to an end. I will share my thoughts with my faithful Redskins brethren and hopefully bring myself some bit of closure. I hope you too, my brothers and sisters of Redskins fandom, as you wander your path of mourning can use this thread to the same end if it suits your way of grieving.
Fuller said the players have repeatedly asked him to help explain why this tragedy occurred over the past few days, but that he has no answer for that. Instead, he has asked them to consider the benefits they have reaped from knowing Sean as a person and a football player, asking them to pray and consider: "Why have I been so privileged to have Sean Taylor here with us?"--Brett Fuller
That statement by Reverend Fuller hit me right where it counts. It was an epiphany. I had spent the last two days sad, angry and bitter about our loss.
Sad that his poor baby girl will grow up without knowing her loving father. Sad that Pedro Taylor outgrew his beloved son. Parents should never outlive their children. Sad that his fiancée will spend the rest of her life raising her daughter knowing Sean died protecting them.
Angry that violence like this occurs, Angry that so many damn people die every day in this world who don't have to. Angry that the soulless perpetrators still breathes the same air that you and I do. The air that Sean deserves, not them.
Bitter that I had a hero taken. Bitter that I'll never get to the see the greatest Safety in the history of the game perform his miracles of athleticism again. Bitter that I'll have to spend the rest of my life knowing he WAS the best ever but he simply didn't get the time to put it all on the field for everyone to see. Bitter that I was robbed of the enjoyment he was to have given me for years to come.
For me, as a fan, it is the football that hits the hardest. That sounds callous but it is reality. I mourn the death of anyone I don't know personally with similar intensity. That is to say I genuinely feel badly for their family and friends but I am afforded the distance of anonymity in mitigating my emotions. Where that anonymity melts away is in football, for football is what Sean is to me on a visceral level. It is why my bitterness will be the hardest to overcome. Because Sean is football to me.
Realistically, my sadness for his family will probably never really die. I know decades down the line the crappiness of this situation for them will still pull at my heart. But it will surely dull. My anger will die the day that senseless violence ceases. That is to say probably never.
So my bitterness is where my attention will lay for it seems the most likely to be healed through action. Undoubtedly my bitterness is imperceptibly small when compared to the sadness, that sense of despair, of those closest to him. But it is what I am faced with and it has seemed daunting. But Reverend Fuller brought it home for me. He gave me the answer. I know now that I should not be thinking of what could have been. I should think only of what was.
- I think of the Superman athleticism.
- The devastating power in his tackles.
- The look of fear in his would be victim's eyes as he bore down for a hit.
- The swagger he held over the entire field.
- I remember the absolute lack of fear I ever had about him as a player since the moment he stepped on the field.
- I remember knowing, KNOWING, I was watching the birth and rise of a legend.
- And I remember how everyone who actually knows him, the ones REALLY hurting right now, have made me understand what he was to them as a friend and teammate. I'll probably remember this most forever.
These things help me leave behind the "what ifs" and "what coulda beens" and head straight down the path of "Oh man you should seen this guy when he was playing!"
I was a lucky man for being able to have Sean grace the field for my beloved Redskins and I'd rather simply remember that now. I will miss you Sean forever but I'll remember you more.
Fuller said the players have repeatedly asked him to help explain why this tragedy occurred over the past few days, but that he has no answer for that. Instead, he has asked them to consider the benefits they have reaped from knowing Sean as a person and a football player, asking them to pray and consider: "Why have I been so privileged to have Sean Taylor here with us?"--Brett Fuller
That statement by Reverend Fuller hit me right where it counts. It was an epiphany. I had spent the last two days sad, angry and bitter about our loss.
Sad that his poor baby girl will grow up without knowing her loving father. Sad that Pedro Taylor outgrew his beloved son. Parents should never outlive their children. Sad that his fiancée will spend the rest of her life raising her daughter knowing Sean died protecting them.
Angry that violence like this occurs, Angry that so many damn people die every day in this world who don't have to. Angry that the soulless perpetrators still breathes the same air that you and I do. The air that Sean deserves, not them.
Bitter that I had a hero taken. Bitter that I'll never get to the see the greatest Safety in the history of the game perform his miracles of athleticism again. Bitter that I'll have to spend the rest of my life knowing he WAS the best ever but he simply didn't get the time to put it all on the field for everyone to see. Bitter that I was robbed of the enjoyment he was to have given me for years to come.
For me, as a fan, it is the football that hits the hardest. That sounds callous but it is reality. I mourn the death of anyone I don't know personally with similar intensity. That is to say I genuinely feel badly for their family and friends but I am afforded the distance of anonymity in mitigating my emotions. Where that anonymity melts away is in football, for football is what Sean is to me on a visceral level. It is why my bitterness will be the hardest to overcome. Because Sean is football to me.
Realistically, my sadness for his family will probably never really die. I know decades down the line the crappiness of this situation for them will still pull at my heart. But it will surely dull. My anger will die the day that senseless violence ceases. That is to say probably never.
So my bitterness is where my attention will lay for it seems the most likely to be healed through action. Undoubtedly my bitterness is imperceptibly small when compared to the sadness, that sense of despair, of those closest to him. But it is what I am faced with and it has seemed daunting. But Reverend Fuller brought it home for me. He gave me the answer. I know now that I should not be thinking of what could have been. I should think only of what was.
- I think of the Superman athleticism.
- The devastating power in his tackles.
- The look of fear in his would be victim's eyes as he bore down for a hit.
- The swagger he held over the entire field.
- I remember the absolute lack of fear I ever had about him as a player since the moment he stepped on the field.
- I remember knowing, KNOWING, I was watching the birth and rise of a legend.
- And I remember how everyone who actually knows him, the ones REALLY hurting right now, have made me understand what he was to them as a friend and teammate. I'll probably remember this most forever.
These things help me leave behind the "what ifs" and "what coulda beens" and head straight down the path of "Oh man you should seen this guy when he was playing!"
I was a lucky man for being able to have Sean grace the field for my beloved Redskins and I'd rather simply remember that now. I will miss you Sean forever but I'll remember you more.