Today was Bae day Sunday. The plan was to go to church, brunch, and the movies to see Bad Boys 2 with two other couples. We spent the day in fellowship, talking about the upcoming NFL draft, Gen Z, and just life. Your name was even mentioned as one of the mentors our generation had to look up to. We all sat in the darkened theatre, dissecting which movie trailers deserved an actual viewing. *Ding* *Notification goes off*. *Gasp*. I skim through the text not believing the news. Forgetting the movie, I quickly search through my social media feed wanting a confirmation that this is a hoax…. until it’s confirmed that it’s not. It’s real. A dull ache travels from the nape of my neck, to my forehead. I struggle to stay present and focus on the movie, but I can’t. I think about your wife, and I unconsciously touch Jeff’s knee, seemingly to remind myself that he’s physically there. *Ding* *Notification goes off*. Your baby girl was with you as well. My heart shatters even more. The loss is unimaginable.
The movie ends, and we walk out. I cling to Jeff’s hand, squeezing just a little tighter. Around us, everyone is on their phones, saying your name. Our group is in shock. We pile into the car and it’s stone silent—It feels like we just left a funeral. As we hug and say our goodbyes, the purpose of this day, Bae day Sunday, comes back. I envisioned a day where we would spend quality time together with our baes, amidst our busy schedules, with joy and laughter. It was that…but it ended with a sobering fact: Our very existence is limited. Kobe taught us that we owe it ourselves to live fiercely and with intention; to live passionately and without regret. No matter what team we call our own, it is undeniable that Kobe was an undisputed champ. To THE Black Mamba… We tip our hats off to you champ.
Here’s to living with intention, with regard to ourselves, and our loved ones. There are no words to ease this unimaginable loss. Protect your peace and grieve however you deem fit.