“Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don’t know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It’s that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don’t know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”
Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky
Bray Wyatt passed away yesterday.
I always come back to this quote in times of someone else’s passing. There’s something about the message behind it that leaves a shadow cast over you. Maybe part of it is because the first time I ever heard that exact passage it was Brandon Lee who recited it on the special features of “The Crow” DVD, made heavier years later when I got around to actually reading “The Sheltering Sky.” It’s frankly pretty bleak on the surface, but I suppose that’s also a matter of perspective too.
Wyatt’s passing is somehow hitting differently for me from 24 hours prior when Terry Funk passed away. Perhaps it’s that I only got to see so much of Funk in his prime, perhaps it was his long battle with health issues. Regardless there was just a degree of expectedness with Funk that with everything he put himself through over the years for us, with his health not what it was, time sadly was not on his side.
That isn’t so with Windham Rotunda, the man behind “Bray Wyatt” and all of the characters’ iterations. There’s an extreme degree of suddenness because a life has been extinguished far too soon, one that had so much more to give both to us as wrestling fans and more importantly to his family and children.
Windham Rotunda was a special gift to wrestling fans. He was a physical juggernaut coupled with a creative mind that far exceeded his imposing size and strength; his charisma pumped from his heart and gave life to his characters that were wholly special, totally unique and truly unlike any that came before him.
It was clear he had a special talent from the time of his earliest NXT promos where the original version of “Bray Wyatt” was forged and born on our screens like a cat without a care roaming freely, tasting freedom while Rotunda dared to be different. I think that’s why we gravitated toward him so readily. It was clear he was special, it was clear the uniqueness of what he presented was not forced and completely his. He was authentic.
That’s why we cheered him, maybe even when we shouldn’t have since his character wasn’t a “good guy” in the most conventional terms. Yet, when he won his first of three world championships, we were there cheering him on and telling him he deserved the moment because he unwaveringly did.
(He had the whole the world in his hands.)
I think the hook with Windham Rotunda was that we always felt a synergy with him, that he was relatable and imperfect but wanted to tell us all stories that would frankly give us nightmares if we didn’t know any better. There really weren’t precedents for the Wyatt Family gimmick, nor The Fiend and ultimately what the character evolved into when he finally returned last year. Never mind the hilarious Firefly Funhouse.
They were all uniquely him and couldn’t be done any better nor half as well because the mind behind them was so special. Seriously, be honest: who else could pull off the Muscle Man Dance?
(Behind closed doors doesn’t count.)
Collectively as wrestling fans we’re hurting right now because we know we lost someone special, someone we organically chose and gravitated to because we acknowledged his talents, his creativity, his mind and above all to varying degrees we acknowledged that we saw someone who is “us” and appreciated them for their ability to tell stories ranging from the quietly personal to anarchically violent, while hitting every single note in between.
So often in wrestling we’re told what to like or who to follow, however there are only a handful we choose. He was one; he chose us to be Fireflies, and we chose him in return as he guided us down Ramblin’ Rabbit’s hole to a place we were always gripped, entertained and at home.
That’s what we’ve lost, and with him gone there’s a hole which brings me back to the original passage at the beginning.
Everything we know to be true or sound is fleeting and we don’t know what tomorrow brings. If Brodie Lee’s passing was a cautionary tale, let this be the reminder. Love, respect and appreciate everyone, wrestler and fan alike, because together we all get to experience this crazy medium and sharing that regardless of promotional boundaries is the coolest part of it. It connects us, and brings us together.
Through that we can tell our own stories, and remind each other of all the cool moments–past and present–we witnessed. Above all right now share what Windham Rotunda the man afforded us as fans, and what Bray Wyatt the character gave us each week, during each segment and through every match. He was a lantern in the night, helping us through the weeks through the strength of his art.
That’s the perspective I spoke about earlier with that Paul Bowles quote. At face value it’s bleak, but I always chose to look at it as a warning to appreciate what we have as finite. Respect it. Respect the people we interact with daily here, on forums or social media. We like to think we have tomorrow, but in the end we don’t know. So appreciate the moments in front of you. Appreciate what “Bray Wyatt” gave us, and appreciate the legacy that Windham Rotunda left us.
