A week ago I, along with the rest of the world, learned of the tragic death of Kobe Bryant, his daughter, and seven other people aboard an ill-fated helicopter. I’ll admit that when I first heard about Kobe, I was saddened, but not overly fazed. Tragic stories can be seen daily on the news, after all, so why should I care about this life over any other? Does being great at basketball make one’s life more meaningful than another’s? Is what we do more important than who we are? These were some of the questions swirling in my mind as I processed the news.
As the day went on and I heard more and more tributes to his life, I slowly became more intrigued and even inspired by this famous stranger. Kobe’s sports accomplishments are certainly impressive, but it was what people described about him off the court that struck me and kept me wanting to hear more. I learned of his relentless pursuit of excellence, his intense drive and work ethic, and his endless curiosity. I learned that he won an Oscar two years after his retirement, a feat that underscored his passion for life beyond his profession. Being a parent, especially to three girls, my heart wrenched thinking of his daughter who died, and the wife and three girls he left behind. Each person who spoke about Kobe told of the incredible, devoted and loving father he was and of how he spent his time and energy to empower girls.
But I also learned of his checkered past, of rape allegations and adultery. I learned how he rebuilt his life and tried to make amends for his past. How he fell from grace, but rose from the ashes. Whether he truly succeeded or not is not for me to judge. I’m not sure if Kobe is or should be a role model for our kids. Even the famous Charles Barkley once declared that he was not a role model and that kids should be taught to emulate their parents, not athletes or celebrities when he said, “Just because I dunk a basketball, doesn’t mean I should raise your kids”.
Maybe if I learned more about the eight others on the helicopter, those lives would be just as inspiring to me or even moreso than that of Kobe. I have no doubt there are people who I pass everyday at work, at the supermarket, and in my own neighborhood who are fighting battles I can’t even imagine. The patients I regularly meet who are fighting for their lives or dealing with chronic illness have the mental strength that rivals any star athlete. Maybe those are the true heroes that the media should cover.
What I do know for sure, however, is that when we hear about the death of someone we know or think we know, it forces us to confront life. Kobe’s death caused a widespread, collective gasp, then a collective reflection on life. We ask ourselves, what kind of life do I want to live? What kind of parent do I want to be? What legacy do I want to leave behind? These are good questions, some of the greatest. Questions that help us shift our focus, if only momentarily, towards a more meaningful existence.
The night Kobe died I was awakened in the middle of the night by a child who was having a bad dream. She came to my room where I hastily tried to reassure her, half asleep, then sent her back on her way to her own room. The name and face of a man I’d never met entered my mind and I shot up like lightening and quickly went down the hall to my daughter’s room. I kissed and hugged her, told her that I loved her and that everything was alright. I was awakened by a stranger who died that day, but reminded me how to better live.
What are your thoughts on Kobe’s life and death?
