Against the grain II

We must learn to deal with the transition of loved ones

Vaughn Wilson

We never want to talk about it before it happens.  When you find yourself in the position, often there is no preparation.  You wake up one day and you’ve lost a loved one.  Most specifically a parent.

No one or nothing could have prepared me for October of 2018 when my father took his last breath on this Earth.  It felt like the entire world had crumbled on me. My leader, my mentor, my idol and my friend all-in-one had transitioned.  The empty feeling of being robbed of his presence brought about every imaginable emotion.  In the short term I was not good.  I was not good at all.

Then, as the initial emotions subsided, I realized how lucky I was.  For 52 years of my life, I had the ultimate unflappable role model. I was able to enjoy life’s greatest adventures as a family with the leadership of a man among men.  I had experiences in my life where I knew I had the support of an impeccable supporter.

For those of us fortunate enough to grow up with that father who was a father every day of the week, you understand that you lived your life to make them proud.  While I achieved many accolades on the various fields and courts I played on, I get the feeling that his proudest moment was when I was awarded a scholarship to the FAMU School of Business and Industry by Dean Sybil Mobley, Ph.D.  Of all the things I did even in college, his message of academic progress was the core of his message in raising me.

I had the fortune of being asked by former FAMU President James Ammons, Ph.D., to fulfill the same role my father did at FAMU.  In 2009, I assumed the role of Sports Information Director at FAMU.  It was the position that in 1969, Jake Gaither and Eddie Jackson decided to recruit my father from sports editor at the Ocala Star Banner to assume at FAMU.  This is how my father, a Bethune-Cookman College graduate, came to Tallahassee and raised his family as FAMU Rattlers.

When dad passed, I remember basically losing my breath.  I was suffocating in my grief.  I felt like I was the only one on Earth this had happened to.  I felt it wasn’t real.  I asked God why he hadn’t answered my prayers to heal and restore my father.

It was a sermon by the Rev. RB Holmes that started my healing.  While I was numb at the funeral, I remember Rev. Homes saying that “Roosevelt lived a good and respectable life.  God has called him to rest.” 

At that moment, my healing began.

The health challenges that my father experienced leading to his passing were tough. With the loss of most of his sight, decaying motor skills and the inability to do for himself, he was far removed from the independent male leader he had always been.

There was clearly a point of no return for his physical body.  Fortunately, he did not have a slow and painful journey.  He transitioned peacefully.

For us left behind, we always have questions.  Fortunately, my family and I did not involve ourselves in denial.  We realized it was a cycle of life that we have zero control over.  Roosevelt Wilson lived a fun, fruitful and productive life.  For that we are grateful.

I often see on social media families living in denial for far too long.  While we are all different and grieve differently, we must learn to move on.  We must continue to live our lives.  Our loved ones would not want us sulking for an extended period of time. 

We must return to the new normalcy without the presence of our loved ones, while still celebrating their lives.  We have no power to change history, but with how we respond to the loss of a loved one we can write new exciting chapters for ourselves and our families.