Some have wondered how Vikings RB Adrian Peterson could play on Sunday in the same week he found out a son of his had died in the most horrible of ways.
If you are a parent, which we are not (yet), perhaps you have some window into this. But grieving is an intensely personal thing landing squarely with the individual. That is to say: unless the person grieving is doing him or herself harm, we have no business telling them how to deal with such raw emotions.
As such, we are still trying to understand this column from the New York Post. We gave it a full day, gave it another read, and we're still stuck.
An excerpt:
It's sickening the NFL's latest MVP, hours after his son died — allegedly murdered — declared he was "ready to roll," ready to play football.
Me? I'd be fighting for breath, my knees weak with grief, demanding to know why, who, how. Then, I suspect, I'd seethe with rage, swearing retribution. I even think I'd take off a day or two from work. Maybe a week.
The suspect in the beating murder of Peterson's 2-year-old is the boyfriend of Peterson's "baby mama" — now the casual, flippant, detestable and common buzz-phrase for absentee, wham-bam fatherhood.
The accused, Joseph Patterson, previously was hit with domestic assault and abuse charges.
