Mother's Day and Father's Day should not be associated with heartache yet for any parent who's endured losing a child, be that child very young or fully grown or even a seasoned adult, heartache is everpresent. Yet in 2001, for these family holidays, the Petty's, the Irwins, the Ropers and the Earnhardts (as well as all those before them in recent years) will all feel the sting of their losses too keenly for words to try to express. Grief knows no limits and has no time schedule. Recent interviews with Kyle and Pattie Petty have shown the pain isn't any less today than the day it happened. Some may control it better than others, such as Richard Petty appears to, but the pain is still present. Depending upon the generation, the method's of dealing with grief differ but grief still exists and will work itself through in everyone's individual ways. No one should impose their way upon another.
Everything in racing is intertwined from the emotionalism of competition to the fans learning and caring about their favorite drivers and their families, even down to the mechanics of the cars and the profits gained from the sport. No one system (whether people, mechanical or money) can exist without the other aspects of the sport. Racing is interdependent with one system upon another and people upon people. A cloud of sadness hangs over the racing family during these times. Moments of joy in our own families may send us reeling down the path of empathy for those who can't enjoy these moments anymore. These holidays celebrate our roles within our families as the parent and/or the child. Creating a legacy of values becomes increasingly important and the notion of life being "short" is just too real. Hopefully, the true meaning of priorities and family settles into our hearts every day and not just during these times.
As Mother's Day approached, I imagined the motions of the holiday bringing on the emotions of the loss for all the families. And, that insidious fear of what I would do or how could I go on if the same happened to me with my own son unsettles my peace of mind. As the anniversary of Kenny Irwin's death approaches, I remember his statements about his mom being his best friend. Again, I feel so fortunate to have the same with my son. And then I think of Martha Earnhardt and how so many years she watched her grown, strapping, hard-headed son survive incredible accidents only to lose his life so suddenly at Daytona. All those horrendous accidents when Dale and all the other drivers would climb out and wave to the fans, were like waving, 'Look, Mom, I'm ok, see? Don't worry now.' That little gesture isn't just for the fans. Then they don't climb out with that little wave for the final time. All these drivers accidents "didn't look that bad" but all these accidents left holes in many hearts that can't be repaired. No amount of mystery or turmoil is making it any easier on anyone either.
Holidays have a life of their own. Holidays demand we be happy and joyful and celebrate when in reality holidays bring back all the crushing emotions being avoided in daily regimens and schedules of busyness. Yet, it's holidays that also cause the most cherished memories that we cling to during times like these. Like Teresa said, "Remember the things about him that made you happy you were his fan. Remember the man who loved life." And racers do love life. As this Father's Day approaches, remember those who've lost and cherish your own loved ones. Remember these families in prayer, count your blessings and celebrate life!