An open letter from Jenis Grindstaff

What I have learned

I wanted to take this opportunity to get personal with you for a moment. I have had so much of this built in and I have wanted to express what I was feeling, but did not know the right way to do that. After, thinking about it for a while, I feel that a letter would be the best way to express what I have been feeling for so long.

When I first arrived on campus, I was still a very young boy who had dreams of playing in the national championship game and someday making it to the NBA. I knew that I would have to sit out a year, because of the transfer rule. That is the way I really had it planned, I was going to use that year to get to know the guys, and to learn the system, so I could hopefully step in and play right away. Sitting out was very hard, I had never been in that situation before, I just wanted to play. Playing was the most important thing, and it is what I believed described me as a person. During that year, I was not very happy, because my identity had been taken away from me. I did work hard though during that season and felt confident going in to the next season. I believed that I had done the things necessary to put myself into a position to succeed.

This is when life really hit me with something that I was really not prepared for. Are you ever prepared for the death of your parents? My mother’s illness was something that we had been fighting since 1995, and knew that there was a possibility that her death could happen. But, that was really some abstract thought that really was not reality for me. Something that could happen, but I never really thought would. I remember those last few days in the hospital. My mother was lying on the bed, not really ever awake, because of all the pain medication that she was on just so she could die comfortably. As I would sit in the room with my family, I would constantly be praying a silent prayer. I would pray that she would somehow be healed. I would think of how I was not ready to lose my mother. How there was some many things that I wanted her to be apart of, such as my first game at Tennessee, my wedding, or the birth of my first child. Was I being selfish wanting all of these things? I could see her lying in the bed and all I wanted was to give her a hug, and make everything better. I wasn’t ready for those hugs to end? Sadly my mother did die on July 15, 1999. My mom was gone, no more hearing her voice, eating her food, having my clothes washed for me; I would have to start doing those things myself. I was not ready to for this. But sometimes, I guess, you do not have the choice.

My mother taught me a lot of things while she was alive, but the most important thing that I learned from her is what I witnessed those last couple of weeks while she was in the hospital. My mother was a great person. That was evident by all the support and people that came to see her, or those that would stop by and talk to me and the family or the food that they would prepare for us. It was remarkable to see how many people my mom had touched throughout her life. I remember seeing her in so much pain, thinking to myself, “What is she holding on for, why is she fighting so hard?” I have to believe that she was trying to set on example for me - that life is worth living for and that you should not just accept what it deals you, but you should fight with everything that you have. This is why I continue to love my mother so much and thank her everyday for being the great mother and example that I could draw strength on and courage for my life.

About this same time my father was diagnosed with cancer. This had to be some cruel joke. We had just been through this with my mother and now my father was fighting the same battle. At first, I didn’t accept the news. I was still in shock of burying my mother. But, you cannot run away from cancer, you cannot forget about it. It keeps coming at you, many times more than you believe you can take. “How could this be happening again?” We as a family had to think about what was the best thing to do. We needed to determine how serious my father’s cancer was. The doctors wasted no time, in letting us know that my father was very ill. The started giving us projections about how long they thought he would live. It is always hard to hear that the most important person in your life only has days, weeks, and maybe months to live. With this shocking news, we decided that my father would move with me and my brother (Shawn) back to Knoxville. We believed that we could take care of him better with the both of us around and my brother (Chris) and his wife (Jemma) would come up whenever they could to help out. Why we thought that we could take care of a dying man is beyond me, but it made since at the time, he was our father. This was a mistake though, I was going to school and getting ready for the season, while my brother had to work, so we were hardly ever home. This really didn’t matter though since my father was only at home for a little more than a week, the rest of his time he was in the hospital, the place where I had seemingly lived the last few months of my life.

My father was a very hard man to get to know. He did not open up to well to people, and many times not even to his own family. He was the man who introduced me to basketball, and who gave me the ambition to be the best that I could be. There were times my father could be harsh with the words that he said. There were many times that I did not understand what he was thinking. Then there were those times when I could cry in his arms and feel the love only between a father and a son, the love that I one day hope to be able to give to my kids. My father did have his faults, as did my mother, as do we all, life is about working on these faults and being loved despite them. I remember my last conversation with my father. I had the opportunity to speak to him alone. There were so many things that I wanted to say, how I wanted to thank him for so many things, how I wanted to tell him that I loved him so much, but the only thing that I said to him during our last conversation was, “It is ok to let go dad.” Why these words came out I am not sure? Maybe I knew how much he was suffering and wanted to let him know that it was ok to let go, that he could stop being in so much pain. After, I spoke those words; we embraced one another and cried. That was the best time I had ever spent with my father. All of the harsh words that had been said back and forth over the many conversations throughout the years were washed away with those tears. I knew that I was getting ready to lose my father, what hurt the most, I guess, is that this was the first time I felt that I fully understood him. Shortly after that conversation my father passed away on September 12, 1999.

So how does a 19 year old boy deal with all of this? My way was to shut it out of my life and just concentrate on basketball. Basketball had always been a way for me to get away from it all. It was something that I truly loved and I was looking forward to playing with the same fight and determination that I had seen my parents fight for their lives. I felt comfortable with my role on the team, I had earned a starting job, and I just felt that everything was going to be ok, despite everything that I had been through.

The first game of the season was against Elon College. Despite struggling the first half, I believe I was 0-8; it was great to be out there playing. I was happy just hearing the fans cheer and playing the game that I loved. That all changed when I tired to block a shot during the opening minutes of the second half. I went up to block the shot and felt my knee give way. It was a very strange feeling, one I had never felt before. It popped loud enough to were I could here it. I remember thinking to myself during the split second it took for me to hit the ground, “I know that my knee is messed up, I heard and felt it pop.” When the trainer (Chad Newman) got out there to me, I told him, “I felt it pop.” I was taken back to the locker room where I was swarmed by doctors who were busy making their diagnosis. I suddenly caught myself thinking, “I wish that my parents were here, I need them now.” I guess that I still had not gotten used to the fact that they were gone, that I no longer could get their support or love. During that time with the doctors testing my ligaments and my brother (Shawn) and some friends in the locker room, I couldn’t help but to feel so alone. The one thing that I was going to use to help me get through the hurt that I was feeling was suddenly taken away from me. I believe that this is when I finally was forced to deal with everything. I had up to this point, pushed everything out of my conscience, and chosen not to deal with the fact that I had lost my parents. I could not hold it inside anymore, I had to deal with it now. I was hurting more than ever before. I no longer had an outlet, my medication was taken away.

I remember how angry I was at home that night. I was angry at God for letting all of this happen. Why was all this happening to me? I didn’t deserve all this pain and suffering. It wasn’t fair and more importantly this was not what I wanted. Then while I was lying in the bed with my leg propped up and ice on it, a mental picture of my parents came to mind. How just a few months ago I had seen them lying in the bed, not being able to move, fighting for their lives and then I just I felt sick because of the selfish thoughts that I had been feeling inside. I would recover from this injury, but my parents could never recover. I made a promise to myself that night that I would not feel sorry for myself anymore, because I had seen much worse and knew that there were people much worse off than I was.

This is where I want to come into the present. The next two years after surgery, rehab, and multiple injuries resulting form the surgery have been difficult. I have never been able to get back to where I was before the knee surgery. A lot of people, I guess, would look back on my career and see disappointment. I know that I lost a step, couldn’t jump as high, didn’t win the NCAA Championship, and probably will never play in the NBA. I wish that I could have been 100% healthy every year and all of the pseudo-successful goals maybe would have been met, but I want you to consider this, “Sometimes success should not be measured in wins and losses, but in the growth of a person.”

I do not feel disappointed about my career, if anything I feel that God has blessed me by being here in Knoxville. When I was in need, I received tons of letters and emails of encouragement from the Volunteer fans. These letters and emails really made a difference. They helped me stay strong and lifted my spirits while I was continuing to fight through life and rehab. I am also very thankful for your prayers, without them, I am not sure of how things would have turned out. It was great to get to let you in my life for the past four years, and I cannot say thank you enough for your support and encouragement when I truly needed it. It truly has been a blessing, one that I hope you have felt also.

I would also like to thank my family. Thanks to all the aunts, uncles, cousins, and close family friends. All of your support truly helped me survive, when I didn’t think that I would be able too. I can only hope that I will be able to show the support and love that I felt to you when life gives you pain.

I would like to especially thank my sister and brothers. Jemma you were thrust into a very difficult situation being new to the family, and having to deal with everything. I am glad that Chris had you for support; I know that he needed it and used it. And for myself, I cannot express the gratitude that I feel for you being a part of my life. You have helped me talk about what I feel, and in turn have help me heal because of that. God has put you into this family for a reason, I am thankful that you were there to help all of us get through this. Shawn thanks for taking care of me after surgery, I know that I was a pain sometimes. It was good to have you with me. I felt that we both gained strength from one another while we were living together, it helped us heal, and brought us closer together as brothers and friends. Chris, you were the rock of the family, the person that we looked to for guidance during this terrible time. You really held the family together. You have been a will continue to be the person that I look up to for direction in my life. I feel very fortunate to have brothers like you two. I know we might not say this enough to one another, but I love you both. Thank you.

A lot times people ask me what I have learned from all of this, I think it can best be described by this: Every time I look at my knee and see the scars, I can’t help but to think of the bigger scar that is inside, a scar that is slowly healing, but will never go away. I am not sure if I want it to go away. It is a scar that I am proud of and feel fortunate to have, a scar that has taught me so much about myself and about life. The thing that I have learned the most from the scar is love. Love for life, love for family, and love for my parents, who even after their death, their youngest child is still learning from them everyday. Thanks mom and dad, you will always be loved. I miss you.