Rest in Paradise, Kobe

There are few things certain in life.

The sun will come up each day.

Night will fall each night.

But still, they differ by time. They differ by place.

Death is similar. You never know when it’s going to strike.

My biggest memory of Kobe Bryant was watching my best friend’s eyes light up when he came on screen.

I was an awkward 13-year-old with frizzy curly hair and zero knowledge of basketball. But my best friend knew everything.

She wore his jersey to school, I helped her plaster her wall with newspaper clippings.

Through the black and white photographs, he smiled his widest grin.

I really saw him in a black and white.

All I knew is that he coined the term that we shoot rolled up receipts into waste bins.

I really don’t think there is the word bandwagon in death.

Death knows no bounds. You can feel connected to someone when they’re gone, whether you knew them or knew them through someone else.

Because when you know how it feels to lose a loved one and when the pain pulsates out of your chest, every person’s death feels even more painful.

But I think the saddest thing is how the world moves on.

We all enjoyed our Sunday’s today. We ate dinner tonight. We’ll wake up and drive to work tomorrow.

Kobe’s wife just lost her daughter and husband.

I can hear the silence. I feel the tears.

But through all of this, there is beauty that the world rejuvenates. That’s what he would’ve wanted, right?

I watched the game through other’s eyes. I watched Kobe through others eyes. Now, I see him, a family man, an inspirational man, a life-changing star.

He became a part of every person that heard the news today.

He became a part of me.

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