In times of great tragedy, it seems impossible to find the right words to express the emotions erupting inside of you. The stages of grief are spinning, and your vocal cords become too tight to even open your mouth in attempt to speak. In times of great tragedy, of course it's hard to find the right words - because you never thought you'd have to search for them.
You go through life expecting to wake up and find yourself right back in your daily routine. You expect to set plans and see them through. You expect to wake up and be able to call your mom on your way to work. You expect to come home after you leave your house. Day in and day out, you do the same thing over and over, and eventually you start taking days for granted as you expect to wake up each day and do it all again.
But that's the thing - waking up tomorrow is not a guarantee. We get so used to doing it, that it's easy to dismiss and diminish the value of each day as we just expect another one tomorrow. But when the sharp and unforgiving reminder of mortality strikes - our expectations are suddenly humbled. There is nothing in this world that will prepare you for unexpected death, and to be on the receiving end of a phone call where your entire world is about to change.
On Sunday, Kobe Bryant, one of the most prolific athletes in my lifetime, as well as his daughter and seven others, left their houses and did not return home. When I first got word of the accident, I refused to believe it. Thoughts began racing through my mind justifying it as a "bad journalism", or mis-informed person in the media. "Not Kobe," I thought, "that has to be a lie". I couldn't refresh my Twitter feed fast enough, as I was simultaneously trying to convince myself that I couldn't find anything because it wasn't real. An hour and a half of denial, when it finally began to sink in that no matter how much I tried to pretend it wasn't real - it was.
For the past few days I've been trying to unpack my emotional response over a death of someone I've never met. I felt guilty for grieving, for crying, for feeling like I lost someone I personally knew. I didn't know how to explain it, or why I felt the need to explain it...But I felt almost like a fraud for crying over this accident. There was a tweet I saw from Bernice King (@BerniceKing) that helped me come to terms with my emotions:
"'Mourning a "celebrity" does not = lack of "consciousness."
And sometimes, the death of someone we fell like we knew, but we never actually touched, triggers pain about the death of people we knew well.
We are on a brief pilgrimage here, reconciling life and death."
As I reflect on the last few days, and unravel my emotions I'm starting to understand my that my grief to this prolific death has many layers:
As a fan of sports in general - I can't help but look back at his impact on the court and what he did for the game of basketball. Growing up a tomboy, all I wanted to do was play basketball, soccer, football - anything that I could compete in, I wanted to play. It was Kobe, and people like Kobe that made me fall in love with sports. He gave everything he had to the game, despite having the God-given talent, he was never satisfied and continued to better himself and the game. His work ethic instilled in me, and millions of others, a sense of "never being finished", and that "Mamba Mentality" transcended basketball. I was never the best or most elite athlete - not even by a long shot. But I'll be dammed if I wasn't the hardest working and always trying to improve. His work ethic was unmatched, and his dedication to growing the next generation was admirable.
As a journalist - I look at all the stories people are sharing about how Kobe has impacted them. The tributes, photos, and memories that will never be forgotten. As humans, our impact on each other expands far and wide, reaching farther than we can even fathom. It seems like every person has their own Kobe moment. A moment in a game, an encounter, a conversation, an interview that struck a chord. By sharing these stories it helps unify us, especially in grief. Every person has their own story to share, we just have to be willing to listen. We come together in times of tragedy and are comforted by the words of others as we all try to heal on our own path.
As an empath - the pain I feel for the family of the victims is overwhelming. I can not begin to fathom the loss they are enduring. I am emotional, and I've never tried to hid or bury my feelings. I very much like to talk about what I'm feeling and why - it's part of the reason I turn to writing when I'm grieving, as it helps me sort out my emotions. The pain these families must be going through puts a pit in my stomach - to lose a husband, daughter, wife, aunt, cousin, mom, son, friend, etc. It's unrelenting pain I wish upon no one. My heart aches, and will continue to ache for these families as there is a thick, almost tangible void that can never be filled.
As someone who is no stranger to unexpected death - the gut-wrenching reminder that life is so fragile is extra present. An unwelcome reminder that we are not guaranteed anything. We've all experienced death, and by no means is one death is no easier to digest than another. But to get a phone call you never expected, cuts the soul a little differently. It's a relentless, sharp pain that consumes your entire being. Again, it's that painful reminder that nothing is guaranteed and the fragility of life hits you square in the face. So pick up your phone and call your dad. Ask your girlfriend to lunch. Tell your people you love them, as you are never guaranteed another time to do so.
As a human being - the loss of such an effervescent and gigantic light that was Kobe Bryant, hits hard. It's unfair, it's not right - and yet, it happened. These deaths sent shock waves around the word - far beyond just fans of basketball. A reminder that this life we live, is fleeting and we hold the power to become what we want. So live your authentic life, be who you are, love who you want and treat others with kindness. John Wesley sums it all up, "Continue to do all the good you can, in all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as you ever can".
We all deal with death differently. Let yourself go through whatever emotions you need to, however you need to. Talk about it, sit with it, write about it - whatever you need to do to get through it. A loss like this is a tragic wake up call, and a harsh reminder to greet each day with an open heart and soak in each moment as it might be our last.
Sending love and light to everyone today. Hug your people, your pets, and yourself a little tighter today, tomorrow, and every day.
#MambaForever
You go through life expecting to wake up and find yourself right back in your daily routine. You expect to set plans and see them through. You expect to wake up and be able to call your mom on your way to work. You expect to come home after you leave your house. Day in and day out, you do the same thing over and over, and eventually you start taking days for granted as you expect to wake up each day and do it all again.
But that's the thing - waking up tomorrow is not a guarantee. We get so used to doing it, that it's easy to dismiss and diminish the value of each day as we just expect another one tomorrow. But when the sharp and unforgiving reminder of mortality strikes - our expectations are suddenly humbled. There is nothing in this world that will prepare you for unexpected death, and to be on the receiving end of a phone call where your entire world is about to change.
On Sunday, Kobe Bryant, one of the most prolific athletes in my lifetime, as well as his daughter and seven others, left their houses and did not return home. When I first got word of the accident, I refused to believe it. Thoughts began racing through my mind justifying it as a "bad journalism", or mis-informed person in the media. "Not Kobe," I thought, "that has to be a lie". I couldn't refresh my Twitter feed fast enough, as I was simultaneously trying to convince myself that I couldn't find anything because it wasn't real. An hour and a half of denial, when it finally began to sink in that no matter how much I tried to pretend it wasn't real - it was.
For the past few days I've been trying to unpack my emotional response over a death of someone I've never met. I felt guilty for grieving, for crying, for feeling like I lost someone I personally knew. I didn't know how to explain it, or why I felt the need to explain it...But I felt almost like a fraud for crying over this accident. There was a tweet I saw from Bernice King (@BerniceKing) that helped me come to terms with my emotions:
"'Mourning a "celebrity" does not = lack of "consciousness."
And sometimes, the death of someone we fell like we knew, but we never actually touched, triggers pain about the death of people we knew well.
We are on a brief pilgrimage here, reconciling life and death."
As I reflect on the last few days, and unravel my emotions I'm starting to understand my that my grief to this prolific death has many layers:
As a fan of sports in general - I can't help but look back at his impact on the court and what he did for the game of basketball. Growing up a tomboy, all I wanted to do was play basketball, soccer, football - anything that I could compete in, I wanted to play. It was Kobe, and people like Kobe that made me fall in love with sports. He gave everything he had to the game, despite having the God-given talent, he was never satisfied and continued to better himself and the game. His work ethic instilled in me, and millions of others, a sense of "never being finished", and that "Mamba Mentality" transcended basketball. I was never the best or most elite athlete - not even by a long shot. But I'll be dammed if I wasn't the hardest working and always trying to improve. His work ethic was unmatched, and his dedication to growing the next generation was admirable.
As a journalist - I look at all the stories people are sharing about how Kobe has impacted them. The tributes, photos, and memories that will never be forgotten. As humans, our impact on each other expands far and wide, reaching farther than we can even fathom. It seems like every person has their own Kobe moment. A moment in a game, an encounter, a conversation, an interview that struck a chord. By sharing these stories it helps unify us, especially in grief. Every person has their own story to share, we just have to be willing to listen. We come together in times of tragedy and are comforted by the words of others as we all try to heal on our own path.
As an empath - the pain I feel for the family of the victims is overwhelming. I can not begin to fathom the loss they are enduring. I am emotional, and I've never tried to hid or bury my feelings. I very much like to talk about what I'm feeling and why - it's part of the reason I turn to writing when I'm grieving, as it helps me sort out my emotions. The pain these families must be going through puts a pit in my stomach - to lose a husband, daughter, wife, aunt, cousin, mom, son, friend, etc. It's unrelenting pain I wish upon no one. My heart aches, and will continue to ache for these families as there is a thick, almost tangible void that can never be filled.
As someone who is no stranger to unexpected death - the gut-wrenching reminder that life is so fragile is extra present. An unwelcome reminder that we are not guaranteed anything. We've all experienced death, and by no means is one death is no easier to digest than another. But to get a phone call you never expected, cuts the soul a little differently. It's a relentless, sharp pain that consumes your entire being. Again, it's that painful reminder that nothing is guaranteed and the fragility of life hits you square in the face. So pick up your phone and call your dad. Ask your girlfriend to lunch. Tell your people you love them, as you are never guaranteed another time to do so.
As a human being - the loss of such an effervescent and gigantic light that was Kobe Bryant, hits hard. It's unfair, it's not right - and yet, it happened. These deaths sent shock waves around the word - far beyond just fans of basketball. A reminder that this life we live, is fleeting and we hold the power to become what we want. So live your authentic life, be who you are, love who you want and treat others with kindness. John Wesley sums it all up, "Continue to do all the good you can, in all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as you ever can".
We all deal with death differently. Let yourself go through whatever emotions you need to, however you need to. Talk about it, sit with it, write about it - whatever you need to do to get through it. A loss like this is a tragic wake up call, and a harsh reminder to greet each day with an open heart and soak in each moment as it might be our last.
Sending love and light to everyone today. Hug your people, your pets, and yourself a little tighter today, tomorrow, and every day.
#MambaForever
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