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Ketch's 10 Thoughts From the Weekend (There's only one thought this morning...)

Great read @Ketchum - really puts life into the right perspective. Rival rankings, splash hires, etc does not compare to family.
 
So many thoughts yesterday and how surreal it all was hearing the news given what I was doing...

Yesterday when I heard the news, I was driving to the AT&T Center to watch the Spurs play in person for the first time all season, in an arena where I probably saw Kobe play at least 10 times in his career. I instantly thought about all the times and memories I had of watching Kobe play in San Antonio in that very arena as I walked in, and the number of championships that were decided between those two teams and the outcomes of those games I attended that decade. Either Kobe or Duncan played in the NBA finals 11 out of 12 years from 1999-2010!

When I first heard the news, I was driving with my 8 year old son to a basketball game, just like Kobe was taking her daughter to a basketball game.

That video you posted of Kobe with his daughter teaching her things at a basketball game... That was me and my son yesterday at the Spurs game. Trying to teach him about how to play the game while watching the best players in the world do it. The day before, I coached my son in his basketball league game, just like how Kobe was investing in his daughter's basketball development in the game.

I'm only one year younger than Kobe. I turned 40 on Saturday, so even before Kobe died, I was already spending a lot of time in thought about life and how quickly it goes by and thinking about how much time I might have left and what I've accomplished so far. I'm simply devastated by the awful news.
 
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I’m glad to know it wasn’t just me. Had a similar experience dropping the kiddos off this morning. I’m not a basketball fan and consequently not a Kobe fan. But the news yesterday hit me hard and affected me hard this morning. Can’t seem to shake it - very odd feeling.
 
Seeing that video of Kobe and Gigi reminded me of when I coached my daughters soccer team. I played my whole life and had college scholarships, but never got even close to Kobe’s level. However, I can really see the game well.

I was coaching my daughters team at age 6, and she was frustrated she wasn’t getting a goal. She care to the bench crying. I sat down next to her, and we talked about taking the ball down the sides and cutting it back. She went back in the game, and within a minute, did that and scored. She came running to the sideline and jumped in my arms.

Thats what I think of seeing that video. That’s what’s important.
 
ee0e3a40b744e2eebc3b4d949eaa9055x.jpg

It wasn't until Monday morning that I think I fully understood it all.

Sitting in the Cypress Creek Elementary School cafeteria on Monday morning, watching my twin five-year olds eat Coco Puffs and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I couldn't quite shake the profound sadness that had drenched my soul in the aftermath of learning that a helicopter carrying Kobe Bryant, his second-oldest daughter Gianna and seven others had crashed into a mountain the day before, killing everyone on board.

I just stared at my children and tried to soak in the innocence that exists in the hearts of kindergartners. Looking at Haven, I realized that her fingers were blue and a smudge of blue was on her cheek. Where the hell did it come from, I wondered to myself. It hadn't been there this morning when I woke her up. I don't even remember her having it on her face when we left for school. Was it toothpaste? No, that wouldn't explain why it was all over her hands.

While lost in about 10 seconds of blue smudge thought, I came out of my daze when Haven leaned into me and whispered, "I don't want you to go. I want to stay with you forever."

Right then, right there ... it all became obvious.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the basketball player. While I've always respected the hell out of Kobe's greatness as a player, I wouldn't ever say that I was a fan.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the person, which is a conversation that includes many complications, especially when trying to balance all of the positive stories that can sometimes make you forget that something happened in Colorado more than a decade ago that is quite complicated and every bit as much of his story as an NBA Finals MVP.

What this was about was a man and his daughter, lost together in almost unspeakable, horrifying fashion. When the news first hit social media on Sunday, the first image in my mind was that of a scene from last month when Bryant had been sitting courtside at a basketball game with Gianna, teaching her a lesson that must have been so unique and special to them.

giphy.gif


Nothing can humanize a person quite like the sight of them engaging with their kids, as it's the most relatable thing we can share with another person. The fear. The devastation. The loss. The aftermath. Somewhere at the exact moment that the world learned of Bryant's death was a wife and three daughters that were in the midst of a change in their lives that won't ever be made right.

Before this horrifying moment could even sink in, a report emerged from ABC that all of Kobe's children had been on the helicopter with him, which was almost too much to take, as the little voice in my head screamed, "God, no!"

It was all so confusing and I didn't know anyone involved. Imagine what it must have been like for the family members of those involved in the crash, forced to learn about your world changing through social media or frantic text messages or some means none of us can comprehend.

Moments later, it was confirmed that 13-year old Gianna had perished with him and time just seemed to stop.

All I wanted in that moment was to hug my kids and never let go, but they weren't at home. Eventually, when they did return home from a trip to Barnes and Noble, I clutched on to them with an urgency that I don't ever remember. There's something that happens to you as a human being the moment that you have a child and that change seemingly lasts the rest of your life. All you want is to provide safety for your children at all times and nothing seems more haunting that the idea of not being able to pull it off.

That thought is the thing that I still can't shake this morning. A helicopter full of parents and children crashed into a mountain, and I'm haunted as a human being by the fear that must have existed in those waning moments, along with the helplessness. You dream about your kids playing sports, going to college, getting married and eventually having children of their own.

This moment in time is a reminder that none of those dreams can be taken for granted.

Ever.

As I walked my kids to their classroom ahead of the 7:45 a.m. bell, I hugged my kids again before they walked into their classroom. Just as they were about to disappear into a Monday or learning to read and write, Hendrix stopped in the doorway of his class room and turned around. Out of nowhere, he ran to me and jumped into my arms, telling me that he loved me and would miss me while he was in school.

It was everything I needed. It was everything I wanted. It'll stay with me all day.

While I count my blessings, my heart aches for those that won't have those hugs this morning or this afternoon or ever again. None of this will ever make sense. None of it will ever go away. None of it can ever be overturned.

The lasting memory of one of the greatest basketball players that ever lived is of him as a father, unable to control life at the end after seemingly spending the majority of his 41 years on this earth doing exactly that with a dedication that those who knew him best often mentioned was incomparable.

We're all mortal, even those that sometimes seem to be made of something quite the opposite. With that knowledge reaffirmed over the weekend, here's to vowing to make the most of the moments we all have left - whether it's a day, a month, years or decades.

Once gone, it's gone forever and can never be replaced.



So, go hug your kids. Call your parents. Tell a long lost friend that you love them and miss them. Seize the moment today.

Now!

Don't wait for a day or time that isn't guaranteed.

Rest in peace, Kobe, Rest in peace, Gianna, Rest in peace, John. Rest in peace, Keri. Rest in peace, Alyssa. Rest in peace, Christina. Rest in peace, Sara. Rest in peace, Payton. Rest in peace, Ara.
IMO the best thing that you have ever written. Well done Mr. Ketchum.
 
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Beautifully written, Ketch. I think it’s been a very weird and surreal 24 hours for everyone. Really snaps you back into reality a bit and think about what’s really important.
 
I was rolling back from H-town with my 11 y.o., ironically enough, after a weekend of basketball training at the TJ Ford Academy. Those trips with my boy are especially great because it gives us a nice roadie to talk. Heard the news on way back. Interestingly enough, he had reminded earlier in the week that Kobe's parents didn't approve of his wife being another race which led to what I believe is still an estrangement. Anyway, used that as a teaching moment in that you never let some stupid sh*t that like fester because you never know when the end will come. I know as recently as 2016, per Kobe, the relationship with his parents was "sh*t." Best I can tell there wasn't a subsequent reconciliation. Talk about living in regret the rest of their lives. I told him to treasure family and friend relationships every day.
Racism is an ugly, ugly thing.
 
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Even though I kissed my daughter goodbye this morning and told her I loved her, after reading this I sent her a text message telling her how much I loved her and I hope she never forgets it.
 
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I know that while not as publicly...I'm sure there are several, if not many, folks on this board that have lost their children to tragedy. Loss of a child, whether you're famous, infamous or a regular Joe, is the one thing in the world I feel would break me.

Don't ever spare your love and make sure people know you love them. There's no gift more important in the world.

God bless to all of you.
 
Well said.

I was never a great fan of Kobe, though I did greatly appreciate his talent and enjoyed watching him the games I did see. As a basketball player his talent was second to none. As a human being there are many, many stories that he was a good husband, a great father, and a loyal friend. Of those things I have no doubt. However, he was far from perfect (as none of us are, especially me) as the events that occurred in Colorado have been well chronicled. For many that one night defines Kobe, still to this day. I do not agree but I can understand that way of thinking.

As I have watched and read the events of Kobe’s life after basketball and I am more impressed by him than anything he did on the court.

I am unlikely to be moved, as many have been, to the death of a ‘celebrity’. I am far more moved by the loss of the lives of the young on that helicopter. I do not view celebs, of any type, as “heroes”. Many on this board and millions across this nation would disagree with me on that and that is fine. Any loss of life is a tragedy, more so to those who knew the deceased.
 
ee0e3a40b744e2eebc3b4d949eaa9055x.jpg

It wasn't until Monday morning that I think I fully understood it all.

Sitting in an elementary school cafeteria on Monday morning, watching my twin five-year olds eat Coco Puffs and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I couldn't quite shake the profound sadness that had drenched my soul in the aftermath of learning that a helicopter carrying Kobe Bryant, his second-oldest daughter Gianna and seven others had crashed into a mountain the day before, killing everyone on board.

I just stared at my children and tried to soak in the innocence that exists in the hearts of kindergartners. Looking at Haven, I realized that her fingers were blue and a smudge of blue was on her cheek. Where the hell did it come from, I wondered to myself. It hadn't been there this morning when I woke her up. I don't even remember her having it on her face when we left for school. Was it toothpaste? No, that wouldn't explain why it was all over her hands.

While lost in about 10 seconds of blue smudge thought, I came out of my daze when Haven leaned into me and whispered, "I don't want you to go. I want to stay with you forever."

Right then, right there ... it all became obvious.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the basketball player. While I've always respected the hell out of Kobe's greatness as a player, I wouldn't ever say that I was a fan.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the person, which is a conversation that includes many complications, especially when trying to balance all of the positive stories that can sometimes make you forget that something happened in Colorado more than a decade ago that is quite complicated and every bit as much of his story as an NBA Finals MVP.

What this was about was a man and his daughter, lost together in almost unspeakable, horrifying fashion. When the news first hit social media on Sunday, the first image in my mind was that of a scene from last month when Bryant had been sitting courtside at a basketball game with Gianna, teaching her a lesson that must have been so unique and special to them.

giphy.gif


Nothing can humanize a person quite like the sight of them engaging with their kids, as it's the most relatable thing we can share with another person. The fear. The devastation. The loss. The aftermath. Somewhere at the exact moment that the world learned of Bryant's death was a wife and three daughters that were in the midst of a change in their lives that won't ever be made right.

Before this horrifying moment could even sink in, a report emerged from ABC that all of Kobe's children had been on the helicopter with him, which was almost too much to take, as the little voice in my head screamed, "God, no!"

It was all so confusing and I didn't know anyone involved. Imagine what it must have been like for the family members of those involved in the crash, forced to learn about your world changing through social media or frantic text messages or some means none of us can comprehend.

Moments later, it was confirmed that 13-year old Gianna had perished with him and time just seemed to stop.

All I wanted in that moment was to hug my kids and never let go, but they weren't at home. Eventually, when they did return home from a trip to Barnes and Noble, I clutched on to them with an urgency that I don't ever remember. There's something that happens to you as a human being the moment that you have a child and that change seemingly lasts the rest of your life. All you want is to provide safety for your children at all times and nothing seems more haunting that the idea of not being able to pull it off.

That thought is the thing that I still can't shake this morning. A helicopter full of parents and children crashed into a mountain, and I'm haunted as a human being by the fear that must have existed in those waning moments, along with the helplessness. You dream about your kids playing sports, going to college, getting married and eventually having children of their own.

This moment in time is a reminder that none of those dreams can be taken for granted.

Ever.

As I walked my kids to their classroom ahead of the 7:45 a.m. bell, I hugged my kids again before they walked into their classroom. Just as they were about to disappear into a Monday or learning to read and write, Hendrix stopped in the doorway of his class room and turned around. Out of nowhere, he ran to me and jumped into my arms, telling me that he loved me and would miss me while he was in school.

It was everything I needed. It was everything I wanted. It'll stay with me all day.

While I count my blessings, my heart aches for those that won't have those hugs this morning or this afternoon or ever again. None of this will ever make sense. None of it will ever go away. None of it can ever be overturned.

The lasting memory of one of the greatest basketball players that ever lived is of him as a father, unable to control life at the end after seemingly spending the majority of his 41 years on this earth doing exactly that with a dedication that those who knew him best often mentioned was incomparable.

We're all mortal, even those that sometimes seem to be made of something quite the opposite. With that knowledge reaffirmed over the weekend, here's to vowing to make the most of the moments we all have left - whether it's a day, a month, years or decades.

Once gone, it's gone forever and can never be replaced.



So, go hug your kids. Call your parents. Tell a long lost friend that you love them and miss them. Seize the moment today.

Now!

Don't wait for a day or time that isn't guaranteed.

Rest in peace, Kobe, Rest in peace, Gianna, Rest in peace, John. Rest in peace, Keri. Rest in peace, Alyssa. Rest in peace, Christina. Rest in peace, Sara. Rest in peace, Payton. Rest in peace, Ara.

Well said Ketch. And being a grandparent redoubles those feelings.
 
I shed real tears yesterday watching all the coverage on espn. I was 10 when Kobe got drafted and I grew up watching him, I’m a basketball junkie so imagine how fans of the game like me viewed Kobe. He was a ICON!!! And not only to have that happen but for those kids to lose their lives is flat out unfair. I have a 10 year old daughter and I gave her an extra hug last night! I’m still in shock! The devastation that is with all the families involved has to be unbearable. May God be with those families today.
 
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ee0e3a40b744e2eebc3b4d949eaa9055x.jpg

It wasn't until Monday morning that I think I fully understood it all.

Sitting in an elementary school cafeteria on Monday morning, watching my twin five-year olds eat Coco Puffs and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I couldn't quite shake the profound sadness that had drenched my soul in the aftermath of learning that a helicopter carrying Kobe Bryant, his second-oldest daughter Gianna and seven others had crashed into a mountain the day before, killing everyone on board.

I just stared at my children and tried to soak in the innocence that exists in the hearts of kindergartners. Looking at Haven, I realized that her fingers were blue and a smudge of blue was on her cheek. Where the hell did it come from, I wondered to myself. It hadn't been there this morning when I woke her up. I don't even remember her having it on her face when we left for school. Was it toothpaste? No, that wouldn't explain why it was all over her hands.

While lost in about 10 seconds of blue smudge thought, I came out of my daze when Haven leaned into me and whispered, "I don't want you to go. I want to stay with you forever."

Right then, right there ... it all became obvious.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the basketball player. While I've always respected the hell out of Kobe's greatness as a player, I wouldn't ever say that I was a fan.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the person, which is a conversation that includes many complications, especially when trying to balance all of the positive stories that can sometimes make you forget that something happened in Colorado more than a decade ago that is quite complicated and every bit as much of his story as an NBA Finals MVP.

What this was about was a man and his daughter, lost together in almost unspeakable, horrifying fashion. When the news first hit social media on Sunday, the first image in my mind was that of a scene from last month when Bryant had been sitting courtside at a basketball game with Gianna, teaching her a lesson that must have been so unique and special to them.

giphy.gif


Nothing can humanize a person quite like the sight of them engaging with their kids, as it's the most relatable thing we can share with another person. The fear. The devastation. The loss. The aftermath. Somewhere at the exact moment that the world learned of Bryant's death was a wife and three daughters that were in the midst of a change in their lives that won't ever be made right.

Before this horrifying moment could even sink in, a report emerged from ABC that all of Kobe's children had been on the helicopter with him, which was almost too much to take, as the little voice in my head screamed, "God, no!"

It was all so confusing and I didn't know anyone involved. Imagine what it must have been like for the family members of those involved in the crash, forced to learn about your world changing through social media or frantic text messages or some means none of us can comprehend.

Moments later, it was confirmed that 13-year old Gianna had perished with him and time just seemed to stop.

All I wanted in that moment was to hug my kids and never let go, but they weren't at home. Eventually, when they did return home from a trip to Barnes and Noble, I clutched on to them with an urgency that I don't ever remember. There's something that happens to you as a human being the moment that you have a child and that change seemingly lasts the rest of your life. All you want is to provide safety for your children at all times and nothing seems more haunting that the idea of not being able to pull it off.

That thought is the thing that I still can't shake this morning. A helicopter full of parents and children crashed into a mountain, and I'm haunted as a human being by the fear that must have existed in those waning moments, along with the helplessness. You dream about your kids playing sports, going to college, getting married and eventually having children of their own.

This moment in time is a reminder that none of those dreams can be taken for granted.

Ever.

As I walked my kids to their classroom ahead of the 7:45 a.m. bell, I hugged my kids again before they walked into their classroom. Just as they were about to disappear into a Monday or learning to read and write, Hendrix stopped in the doorway of his class room and turned around. Out of nowhere, he ran to me and jumped into my arms, telling me that he loved me and would miss me while he was in school.

It was everything I needed. It was everything I wanted. It'll stay with me all day.

While I count my blessings, my heart aches for those that won't have those hugs this morning or this afternoon or ever again. None of this will ever make sense. None of it will ever go away. None of it can ever be overturned.

The lasting memory of one of the greatest basketball players that ever lived is of him as a father, unable to control life at the end after seemingly spending the majority of his 41 years on this earth doing exactly that with a dedication that those who knew him best often mentioned was incomparable.

We're all mortal, even those that sometimes seem to be made of something quite the opposite. With that knowledge reaffirmed over the weekend, here's to vowing to make the most of the moments we all have left - whether it's a day, a month, years or decades.

Once gone, it's gone forever and can never be replaced.



So, go hug your kids. Call your parents. Tell a long lost friend that you love them and miss them. Seize the moment today.

Now!

Don't wait for a day or time that isn't guaranteed.

Rest in peace, Kobe, Rest in peace, Gianna, Rest in peace, John. Rest in peace, Keri. Rest in peace, Alyssa. Rest in peace, Christina. Rest in peace, Sara. Rest in peace, Payton. Rest in peace, Ara.

Agree 100%. Great piece, Ketch but what was the blue stuff on her hands and smudged on her face?
 
I get that Kobe is a bigger than life person and thus all the focus on him and his daughter.

I have a 15 year daughter and I hope that the not so famous victims in this crash get their fair recognition as well.
 
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That was very nicely done.

I moved out here in 2016, and never realized until then how much of an icon Kobe is to Los Angeles. There are many people that are truly pained from the tragedy.
 
Hated kobe for a majority of his career but then surprised how much I liked and loved this post-NBA kobe version. He just turned 41 and it felt like he was just starting his life and had so much potential still.

If u are in ur early 40's, u really grew up with kobe and watched him grow from a cocky 17yr old solitary phenom to making mistakes in his marriage, to learning how to lead a team and win titles, to transitioning into loving being a father and embracing his other passions.

His evolving into a loving father and the random tragic death just brings so many things about life and mortality to ur front door in the most immediate, painful and scary way possible.

Never really been impacted by a celebrity death as much as Kobe. Almost feels like a death in the family.

Tough living out in SoCal today.
 
ee0e3a40b744e2eebc3b4d949eaa9055x.jpg

It wasn't until Monday morning that I think I fully understood it all.

Sitting in an elementary school cafeteria on Monday morning, watching my twin five-year olds eat Coco Puffs and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I couldn't quite shake the profound sadness that had drenched my soul in the aftermath of learning that a helicopter carrying Kobe Bryant, his second-oldest daughter Gianna and seven others had crashed into a mountain the day before, killing everyone on board.

I just stared at my children and tried to soak in the innocence that exists in the hearts of kindergartners. Looking at Haven, I realized that her fingers were blue and a smudge of blue was on her cheek. Where the hell did it come from, I wondered to myself. It hadn't been there this morning when I woke her up. I don't even remember her having it on her face when we left for school. Was it toothpaste? No, that wouldn't explain why it was all over her hands.

While lost in about 10 seconds of blue smudge thought, I came out of my daze when Haven leaned into me and whispered, "I don't want you to go. I want to stay with you forever."

Right then, right there ... it all became obvious.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the basketball player. While I've always respected the hell out of Kobe's greatness as a player, I wouldn't ever say that I was a fan.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the person, which is a conversation that includes many complications, especially when trying to balance all of the positive stories that can sometimes make you forget that something happened in Colorado more than a decade ago that is quite complicated and every bit as much of his story as an NBA Finals MVP.

What this was about was a man and his daughter, lost together in almost unspeakable, horrifying fashion. When the news first hit social media on Sunday, the first image in my mind was that of a scene from last month when Bryant had been sitting courtside at a basketball game with Gianna, teaching her a lesson that must have been so unique and special to them.

giphy.gif


Nothing can humanize a person quite like the sight of them engaging with their kids, as it's the most relatable thing we can share with another person. The fear. The devastation. The loss. The aftermath. Somewhere at the exact moment that the world learned of Bryant's death was a wife and three daughters that were in the midst of a change in their lives that won't ever be made right.

Before this horrifying moment could even sink in, a report emerged from ABC that all of Kobe's children had been on the helicopter with him, which was almost too much to take, as the little voice in my head screamed, "God, no!"

It was all so confusing and I didn't know anyone involved. Imagine what it must have been like for the family members of those involved in the crash, forced to learn about your world changing through social media or frantic text messages or some means none of us can comprehend.

Moments later, it was confirmed that 13-year old Gianna had perished with him and time just seemed to stop.

All I wanted in that moment was to hug my kids and never let go, but they weren't at home. Eventually, when they did return home from a trip to Barnes and Noble, I clutched on to them with an urgency that I don't ever remember. There's something that happens to you as a human being the moment that you have a child and that change seemingly lasts the rest of your life. All you want is to provide safety for your children at all times and nothing seems more haunting that the idea of not being able to pull it off.

That thought is the thing that I still can't shake this morning. A helicopter full of parents and children crashed into a mountain, and I'm haunted as a human being by the fear that must have existed in those waning moments, along with the helplessness. You dream about your kids playing sports, going to college, getting married and eventually having children of their own.

This moment in time is a reminder that none of those dreams can be taken for granted.

Ever.

As I walked my kids to their classroom ahead of the 7:45 a.m. bell, I hugged my kids again before they walked into their classroom. Just as they were about to disappear into a Monday or learning to read and write, Hendrix stopped in the doorway of his class room and turned around. Out of nowhere, he ran to me and jumped into my arms, telling me that he loved me and would miss me while he was in school.

It was everything I needed. It was everything I wanted. It'll stay with me all day.

While I count my blessings, my heart aches for those that won't have those hugs this morning or this afternoon or ever again. None of this will ever make sense. None of it will ever go away. None of it can ever be overturned.

The lasting memory of one of the greatest basketball players that ever lived is of him as a father, unable to control life at the end after seemingly spending the majority of his 41 years on this earth doing exactly that with a dedication that those who knew him best often mentioned was incomparable.

We're all mortal, even those that sometimes seem to be made of something quite the opposite. With that knowledge reaffirmed over the weekend, here's to vowing to make the most of the moments we all have left - whether it's a day, a month, years or decades.

Once gone, it's gone forever and can never be replaced.



So, go hug your kids. Call your parents. Tell a long lost friend that you love them and miss them. Seize the moment today.

Now!

Don't wait for a day or time that isn't guaranteed.

Rest in peace, Kobe, Rest in peace, Gianna, Rest in peace, John. Rest in peace, Keri. Rest in peace, Alyssa. Rest in peace, Christina. Rest in peace, Sara. Rest in peace, Payton. Rest in peace, Ara.
Outstanding. simply outstanding.
 
ee0e3a40b744e2eebc3b4d949eaa9055x.jpg

It wasn't until Monday morning that I think I fully understood it all.

Sitting in an elementary school cafeteria on Monday morning, watching my twin five-year olds eat Coco Puffs and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I couldn't quite shake the profound sadness that had drenched my soul in the aftermath of learning that a helicopter carrying Kobe Bryant, his second-oldest daughter Gianna and seven others had crashed into a mountain the day before, killing everyone on board.

I just stared at my children and tried to soak in the innocence that exists in the hearts of kindergartners. Looking at Haven, I realized that her fingers were blue and a smudge of blue was on her cheek. Where the hell did it come from, I wondered to myself. It hadn't been there this morning when I woke her up. I don't even remember her having it on her face when we left for school. Was it toothpaste? No, that wouldn't explain why it was all over her hands.

While lost in about 10 seconds of blue smudge thought, I came out of my daze when Haven leaned into me and whispered, "I don't want you to go. I want to stay with you forever."

Right then, right there ... it all became obvious.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the basketball player. While I've always respected the hell out of Kobe's greatness as a player, I wouldn't ever say that I was a fan.

This wasn't about Kobe Bryant the person, which is a conversation that includes many complications, especially when trying to balance all of the positive stories that can sometimes make you forget that something happened in Colorado more than a decade ago that is quite complicated and every bit as much of his story as an NBA Finals MVP.

What this was about was a man and his daughter, lost together in almost unspeakable, horrifying fashion. When the news first hit social media on Sunday, the first image in my mind was that of a scene from last month when Bryant had been sitting courtside at a basketball game with Gianna, teaching her a lesson that must have been so unique and special to them.

giphy.gif


Nothing can humanize a person quite like the sight of them engaging with their kids, as it's the most relatable thing we can share with another person. The fear. The devastation. The loss. The aftermath. Somewhere at the exact moment that the world learned of Bryant's death was a wife and three daughters that were in the midst of a change in their lives that won't ever be made right.

Before this horrifying moment could even sink in, a report emerged from ABC that all of Kobe's children had been on the helicopter with him, which was almost too much to take, as the little voice in my head screamed, "God, no!"

It was all so confusing and I didn't know anyone involved. Imagine what it must have been like for the family members of those involved in the crash, forced to learn about your world changing through social media or frantic text messages or some means none of us can comprehend.

Moments later, it was confirmed that 13-year old Gianna had perished with him and time just seemed to stop.

All I wanted in that moment was to hug my kids and never let go, but they weren't at home. Eventually, when they did return home from a trip to Barnes and Noble, I clutched on to them with an urgency that I don't ever remember. There's something that happens to you as a human being the moment that you have a child and that change seemingly lasts the rest of your life. All you want is to provide safety for your children at all times and nothing seems more haunting that the idea of not being able to pull it off.

That thought is the thing that I still can't shake this morning. A helicopter full of parents and children crashed into a mountain, and I'm haunted as a human being by the fear that must have existed in those waning moments, along with the helplessness. You dream about your kids playing sports, going to college, getting married and eventually having children of their own.

This moment in time is a reminder that none of those dreams can be taken for granted.

Ever.

As I walked my kids to their classroom ahead of the 7:45 a.m. bell, I hugged my kids again before they walked into their classroom. Just as they were about to disappear into a Monday or learning to read and write, Hendrix stopped in the doorway of his class room and turned around. Out of nowhere, he ran to me and jumped into my arms, telling me that he loved me and would miss me while he was in school.

It was everything I needed. It was everything I wanted. It'll stay with me all day.

While I count my blessings, my heart aches for those that won't have those hugs this morning or this afternoon or ever again. None of this will ever make sense. None of it will ever go away. None of it can ever be overturned.

The lasting memory of one of the greatest basketball players that ever lived is of him as a father, unable to control life at the end after seemingly spending the majority of his 41 years on this earth doing exactly that with a dedication that those who knew him best often mentioned was incomparable.

We're all mortal, even those that sometimes seem to be made of something quite the opposite. With that knowledge reaffirmed over the weekend, here's to vowing to make the most of the moments we all have left - whether it's a day, a month, years or decades.

Once gone, it's gone forever and can never be replaced.



So, go hug your kids. Call your parents. Tell a long lost friend that you love them and miss them. Seize the moment today.

Now!

Don't wait for a day or time that isn't guaranteed.

Rest in peace, Kobe, Rest in peace, Gianna, Rest in peace, John. Rest in peace, Keri. Rest in peace, Alyssa. Rest in peace, Christina. Rest in peace, Sara. Rest in peace, Payton. Rest in peace, Ara.


I appreciate this quite a bit, Ketch. This morning I heard the Alecia Keys tribute to him last night at Grammys. She called him a hero and I blanched at that a bit. He isn't a hero to me. He is a guy who was great at his job and it happens to be one that is fun to watch. That is it. I am sure he has done some great charitable things but most of us do relative to our means. We all almost feel like we know him and have memories of him (like when I watched him live destroy the Spurs in the WCF with Shaq back in the day) but we don't.

You know who he is a hero to? His kids and his family. But mostly his kids. They are the ones that have to live with the hole in their lives. Not us. Does not mean we can't grieve his loss and give him the respect that is due, but it should more serve to remind us to keep close the ones we love and treat them with kindness every day as you never know when it will end. It's easy for Kobe. He is gone with his daughter to the infinite. Those closest to him are left to mourn and miss him. For us, as you have so eloquently stated, it should serve as a reminder that nothing is forever even for the most visible among us.

I am resistant to the idea he deserves more than your average man who works and takes care of his family. In the end, all your are left with is those that truly love you. Kobe was a badass, and will be missed by many as he impacted the world and helped us forget our worries for 2 hours at a time on the hardwood. Pray that his family and especially his kids find peace.
 
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I have a 15 year daughter and I hope that the not so famous victims in this crash get their fair recognition as well.
To the people that matter, they will. That is what is important is that these families and friends that lost their loved ones. Kobe and his daughter will get the most media time, because so many knew him. However the "lesser know" will most certainly get the love they deserved from the people who loved and cherished the time with them. Honestly most of them are probably happy to remain out of the spotlight and mourn with the family and friends who knew the victims. I know I was when my little brother died a week after Christmas 25 years ago.
 
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we are never promised tomorrow. Live and love like its your last day. It took me a long time to learn to forgive but it was the best leason I ever learned.
Amen. However, my little Sis (may she rest in peace) had to me a better version of that statement (in my sig).
Do not take anything for granted. Always thank G-d for each and every moment you have to do the things necessary to bring love, peace and happiness to this world. Remember you can't do anything when you are gone and for those who have gone before us, the memories keep them 'alive'. Great example of remembering your loved ones is the Disney movie Coco.
Hug those you love dear as eloquently stated by Ketch and remember.
 
Thanks. Well written. You captured a lot of feelings I couldn't pin down
 
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