Over the last two years, I have lost several very important people to me. Those losses took a part of me, they made me less social and more introspective but they also made me wonder whether I’d lost my ability to empathize. Like Dulè Hill’s character Gus on Psych, I am a sympathetic crier especially when watching movies. I have not cried at the loss of a TV show or movie character since 2012 and I thought that I never would cry over the loss of someone not related to me ever again. Then came yesterday morning.
If you are a loyal follower of the blog then you might now that I am a sports junkie. Like a pure addict; if it were in any way possible to shoot, smoke or snort sports then I would be hocking my shoes and other valuables for it. I had the Sunday ticket before it became popular or railed against. I have cut out of fellowship at church to make it home in time for kickoff and I made my first sports bet at the age of twelve. I love talking about sports and may have occasionally hustled some unknowing guys in sports bars or at parties. Some men think that women who look a certain way know nothing about sports.
One of the reasons that I ever thought that I could be successful at being a sports analyst was due in part because of Stuart Scott. So yesterday’s news that his body could no longer fight off the cancer that was attacking him was heartbreaking; in part because I know exactly how that will affect his daughters and his family but also because I was such a huge fan of the man and the anchor. So this morning, I cried. I grieved as real as if he was my family.
On January 1st, I’d started writing this piece on the first about the optimism with which most of us greet the New Year. I wanted to create a poem about being joyous and expecting change and growth. The title was the same as this rant but somehow this seemed more deserving. I am renewed; I know that I have not lost my ability to be empathetic. That I am still able to feel deeply for others and I am grateful for that discovery.