I hope, for a minute, my friends will indulge me as I struggle to come to terms with Justin’s death. I hope, for a minute, you can forgive me for turning this inwards. I only know to get my emotions out by writing and I am drawn to write now. To get these emotions out. To understand.
Tomorrow, I will go to work. I will go to the gym. I will live out my routine. Because, if there is anything I have learned in the last few months, it is that life does not stop because your heart breaks. I will be asked if I knew Justin. I did not. I had spoken to him a handful of times, but did not know him. Nor did he know me. My memories of him are of a smiling giant (anyone is a giant to me, I’m only 5'0) who was always gracious and grateful. But no, I did not know Justin.
And so people will wonder why I grieve. Why my heart aches. Trying to explain racing to non racing fans is a bit like trying to explain quantum physics to a child. Trying to explain the sense of community, the friends I have made, the people I have met, the experiences I have had, and the way you just feel connected to racing drivers…it makes absolutely zero sense to those who think racing is just turning left all the time.
To be apart of this world, you must have passion. You have to have an undying passion that cannot be dimmed, because there is so much heartache involved in this world. Teams you cheer for disappear, racers retire, series change, and, occasionally, people die. And the people who die, who are at risk? Those are the people who have the most passion of all. I have never met a racing driver who didn’t have a light in his or her eyes when I asked them about their car, their session, a past win, or what they thought their chances were. They LOVE this sport. They have dedicated their lives to it. Every racer has a tale of hardship, and yet they fought through them all to do what they truly love. And that passion? That passion is so infectious.
Why do I mourn? I mourn for a husband a father. I mourn for a man who was well well-loved by everyone he met. I mourn for a racer. I mourn for a winner. I mourn for a light dimmed.
Life is so short. It’s incredibly and undeniably short. And how many of us can truly say we are living out our passions? I know I can’t. I suffer from crippling fear to live out my passion. But every single racing driver is living that passion. They show that passion every single time they put on their helmet and get in their race car. Through bad races and good races, through wins and losses…these people are showing what it is to have passion in your life, and to not be afraid to live it at every turn.
I am a fan of a sport where its participants can, and sometimes do, die. Why? Because there is nothing more incredible in this world than a person with passion. With love. With courage to go after their dreams. I admire every single one of my racing friends. Every single one.
Why do I mourn? I mourn for the passion that Justin Wilson showed in a five minute conversation. I mourn for the racing community. I mourn for his family and friends. I mourn because sometimes the sport I love can be so incredibly unfair and cruel.
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
amandla
gamechangershow
romaincrisis
2087
izzy806
