The world stopped Sunday upon receiving news of Kobe Bryant’s untimely death. I personally almost passed out in disbelief. According to my mother she knew someone had transitioned based on the tone of my voice. I was totally taken aback and once I heard the number of victims who were on the flight it sent me over the edge even more! ” Oh my God, was Vanessa with him? If so that means ALL the girls?!? Oh my God, please don’t tell me an entire family is gone. As the we weaved through the rumors and (mis)information being presented at the speed of light we learned Vanessa wasn’t with him; which in my mind reasonably meant the baby wasn’t aboard the helicopter. This should’ve calmed my nerves, lightened the blow but it didn’t. I immediately screamed “GiGi”!!!!! Her death was yet to be confirmed BUT I was already gone. I bawled the entire day; and once her death was confirmed well it became too much. My own son staring at me in horror, not understanding what’s going on didn’t make the situation any better. I attempted to talk to one of my close friends about it and I immediately realized why I was taking this so hard. Yes, he was an amazing player; yes his death was so untimely and so unexpected but none of that is what drove me to the brink of unbearable sorrow. None of that was why I couldn’t look at; deal with; or be involved with my own son. This hit differently, it hurt like hell because I’m a parent; a mother and whether it’s for the good or bad things affect you differently as a parent.
Motherhood, parenthood in general has a way of uniting us. It’s one of those things that we inherently understand. We may have varying circumstances but realistically there is more about being a parent that unites us than divides us and well we aren’t afraid to show that, to build community and relationships from it. The unbearable pain I felt was as a a parent; it was so complex and yet once I was able to somewhat dissect it it made so much sense. The realization of more children and broken families built on the grief I was experiencing. This piece is in no way indicative of what’s going on or me trying to say how they do or should feel, It is no way what I know to be happening. This piece is just what I FELT on their behalf and the mini directions in which my mind wandered. For me writing was necessary to process my own grief.
Fear, Failure and Realizing Mortality:
I can’t imagine nor do I want to experience what it feels like to know what’s coming and to not be able to do anything to save your baby girl. Like seriously in the moments leading up to the crash I imagine all he could do was tell her he loved her; pray with her; and hold her. While spiritually and maybe emotionally that’s a lot and the best thing to do(prayer); physically and mentally it’s nothing. I HATE feeling helpless in minor situations with my son….you know he fell and I couldn’t catch him; he’s teething; and I can’t take the pain away; things like that. Can you imagine how hopeless that has to feel; to know he couldn’t stop the inevitable; to know he couldn’t take the pain away; to see that fear on her face?!?! I’m sure for a brief moment he felt like a failure. Parents but men especially pride themselves on providing for and protecting their families. Even in those last minutes I’m sure it messed with his manhood to know he couldn’t do anything. In all honesty I’m sure for another brief second he felt responsible for what was happening; after all it was his helicopter. Even if he didn’t feel those emotions (and I seriously hope he didn’t) knowing she won’t live out her potential; knowing she’s about to be robbed of her future; and that he is about to lose time with his other children…that’s so much pain. It hurts to fathom he died possibly blaming himself for her death…and in the end felt helpless. I would imagine his emotional death hurt more than his physical death.
Disbelief, Brokenness , and The Unthinkable:
Not even sure where to begin with this one. To carry and bear a child; watch them grow up; witness their milestones; prepare for the future because you know greater is coming and then to have it all snatched away in the blink of an eye -the immense grief the surviving parents must feel. What those parents wouldn’t give for one more hug; one more kiss; one more I love you mom/dad; more time to watch them grow….I’m honestly not sure how anyone finds closure from that. I imagine it feels as though a piece of your heart has left. How do you move on from that?
If you’re V how do you still mother your other children young children at that while grieving. How do you explain to your toddler who has very little sense of what’s going on that her sister and father won’t be back? How do you not get annoyed with her for continuously calling out for them? How do you separate their lack of understanding from your own grief? How do you mother a newborn and continue to unselfishly give of yourself when you’re in shock; horrified; in disbelief?
The father with the toddler who kept crying out for mommy……how do you deal? My heart broke again listening to him talk about how his baby crying out for mommy broke him. Jesus, how does one attempt to process grief when you have a toddler adding to it? You hurt for your children!!! Let’s be honest, as a toddler what memories will they have of their parents or siblings? Not very many. You hurt because their robbed of a parent, continuing a relationship, and what could’ve been. Mourning both the present and the future can be extremely hard, almost crushing.
AND in my opinion it gets worse for all the parents that have to identify and bury their children. How do you bury a child? No one is prepared to do that; we aren’t taught how to; aren’t given any direction. How do you get closure, you have to identify a body?!?!? Not a whole body possibly riddled with needle wounds after a fight with a terminal illness; not a body riddled any other bruises or wounds…unfortunately and perhaps what hurts most is possibly a mangled body; charred; in pieces, missing pieces; or no body at all. It’s hard enough to lose a child; it makes closure and acceptance even harder with the possibility of the gruesomeness these parents must face. They honestly can’t get that last hug; look at the gentle faces again; kiss their cheeks; or move their daughter’s hairs behind their ear.
My Jesus how it must feel to lose a piece of your heart and to grieve without physical closure. In the words of the hymn, “Oh what needless pain we bear.”
Horrified, Guilt, and Regret:
I don’t know how true this is but it’s been said on several occasions that Kobe and his parents weren’t on speaking terms. While I hope this isn’t true, I mourned for them too, but in a different way. If it is true they weren’t on speaking terms there’s a sense of guilt and regret that probably hits them. A case of the “what if” or “should’ve, would’ve, could’ve”. Maybe even a case of “I thought there’d be more time.” Unfortunately time is a fragile thing, it is both with us and against us. We never know how much of it we have and so it’s important to make every moment count; to attempt amends; and to do our best to have functional relationships with the ones that matter most. I honestly hope they aren’t mourning the loss of a son and granddaughter as well as the loss of possible reconciliation. I hope they aren’t mourning a granddaughter and the lost ability to get to know her. I hope they were at peace with their son. Yet, if they weren’t that’s a different type of loss altogether. It’s a loss I can’t exactly put into words but I felt and understood it all too well. While everyone’s loss is devastating if there was no relationship with their son and granddaughter that loss is more devastating because it comes with a side of guilt and resentment.
In the End:
In the end it took me a few days to sort through my feelings, and to compose myself enough to to put this into words yet after dissecting all of this I understood exactly why I felt her pain; why I felt his pain; and the pain of his parents and all the parents involved. I mourn(ed) those things with and for them. For some reason this commonality of parenthood really allowed me to empathize with them and perhaps understand a smidgen of the pain they’re feeling. It was important to understand this burden; this grief; this pain because while I need to pray for them I also need to learn from it. Even though Ionky have a toddler sooner rather than later I need to figure out a way to explain death and grief to him. And while this may not be a common idea I think it may be smart for me to game plan how to deal with grief while parenting; after all I am a parent and it will happen. In the end I wish this never would’ve happened to them but I no matter how it hurts I’m not going to question God. We just have to pray for the families, it”s really all we can do.
Still Mama Mia 