Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love.
I was getting my nails done when I saw terrible breaking news scrolling across the salon’s television screen. NBA superstar Kobe Bryant was dead. I couldn’t process the concept for several seconds. Was it the Kobe? On this day in 2020, the world was in collective shock at reports that the forty-one-year-old and nine other people aboard a helicopter were killed when it crashed into a hillside on an extremely foggy morning in Calabasas, California. I remember feeling so crushed by the loss of everyone aboard, but when it was revealed that Kobe’s nine-year-old daughter, Gigi, had died, it was like a wrecking ball to the heart. Several days after the crash, Haley and I were saying prayers before bedtime, and I told her we needed to add Vanessa (Kobe’s wife) to our list, that she was someone who needed comfort. A few nights later, Haley pointed out that we’d forgotten to pray for Vanessa . . . and so we did. Peace to you, Kobe and Gigi, and we send our love to you, Vanessa, Natalia, Bianka, and Capri.