Remembering #24

Remembering #24 - Kobe Bryant (1978-2020)

As I reflect on the last blog entry I posted last week, the one about leaving a legacy, it gave me a bit of a shudder and felt eerie to reread, considering the events that occurred on Sunday, January 26, 2020.......

As a basketball player, myself, being only a few years older than Kobe, his was a name that was known whether you followed basketball or not. You knew who Kobe Bryant was. He was a phenom; a stand out at a young age. 17 years old and being drafted into the NBA from high school, beginning a legendary career at 18....unheard of in my high school years. People truly thought he would fail. He was too young. He proved them wrong and ultimately had an amazingly successful NBA career, having not just one but TWO jersey numbers retired for the LA Lakers. 

I raised a basketball player. My youngest daughter played for 12 strong years and she was my first thought when I heard the news of Kobe's passing (my dear friend, Toom was the second person I thought of....he always reminded me of Kobe!). I've truly cried many tears for a person I've never met, because I know how he influenced my daughter. She listened to Lil Wayne's Kobe Bryant before all her games, it was her 'get in the mentality' song. She respected the player Kobe was and because of him, she LOVED the sport, as evidenced by her tweet after learning of his death and a comment she left on a Facebook status posted about Kobe.

And while I am choosing to focus this blog entry on Kobe, if I'm being perfectly honest with you all, what hurts my heart the most and causes the tears to flow freely, is knowing that his 13 year old daughter, Gianna, was with him. She was the future of women's basketball. At 13, she was already a standout. I mean, come on, with Kobe Bryant DNA in you, how could you NOT be, right? The children who were on that flight with their parents, that last moment of terror, and what those parents must have felt, knowing they could do nothing to protect their children in that moment. I can only imagine what their last moments together must have looked like. No, that's not even accurate. I can't. I can't imagine those last moments.

Those who know OF Kobe, know that he had a bit of a mar on his name dating back to 2003 and allegations of rape and sexual misconduct. He was arrested in 2003 after a sexual assault complaint was filed against him in Colorado when a 19-year-old hotel employee claimed that she had been raped by Kobe. While that certainly was damning to his reputation at the time, and is still something people choose to remember about him, Kobe was STILL a man that people ended up looking up to. His lessons, on and off the court, are timeless. He showed teammates and fans what it looked like to lose with grace and dignity and win with humble pride. I am a firm believer of the idea that you have to take the good with the bad when remembering someone of his fame, but you can choose which focus you want to take. I choose to remember the basketball icon, the man who introduced the world to the Mamba Mentality, the man who's name is synonymous with success, the man who believed in philanthropy, the family man, the man who believed in leaving the world a better place.

When I heard of Kobe’s passing, the movie The Sandlot immediately came to mind (which is weird I know....that's a baseball movie, right?!?). In the movie, the ghost of Babe Ruth tells Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez "Remember kid, there's heroes and there's legends. Heroes get remembered, but legends never die. Follow your heart kid and you can never go wrong." Kobe is a legend. He’s left a legacy for those who followed his career and his life story. Follow your heart and you can never go wrong. Kobe did just that.

I'm still struggling with this news today, two days later. Kobe was the GOAT of the NBA (challenge me, please), playing his entire 20 year career with the Lakers, winning 5 NBA championships as a Laker, being an 18-time All-Star (let that sink in....18 of 20 seasons he was an All-Star), 15-time member of the All-NBA Team, 12-time member of the All-Defensive team, 2 time gold medalist in the Olympic Games (although I still do not believe professional athletes should compete in the Olympics - another blog for another day) and named the NBA's Most Valuable Player in 2008,  come on. G.O.A.T status without a doubt. 

Kobe left a legacy. Years from now, people will still be shooting balled up paper into a trash can and shouting, "KOBE!!!!" as they fade away from the shot. Years from now, people will still remember the amazing legend that was Kobe Bryant. Years from now, my daughter will be introducing her child(ren) to the sport of basketball and the legacy of Kobe Bryant.

And for all that, thank you, Kobe. Godspeed and rest in power. May angels lead you in.......

Time to be the lighthouse

Well, this resonated loudly with me today. I had a former student's mother once tell me that she was certain God placed me in certain student's lives for a purpose. That reverberated in my head this morning as I faced a situation I never wanted to be faced with, let alone be faced with almost 3 months after losing my bonus son.

I've been working with a senior of mine for two months now, trying to get him to see the importance of school....attendance and grades....making something of his life. I knew I had gotten through to him, when he started showing up on time, not missing days anymore, and truly being present in his classes. AAAAAAANNNNND, when he was late, he'd avoid my room so as to not "upset or disappoint" me. I like to think that we have built a good student/teacher relationship.

I took notice to the attendance roster today and I knew he was absent. I figured he would be in on the late bus today. Maybe around 10:00ish that student walked into my room looking absolutely awful. He walked over to my desk and said, "Miss, I have something I have to tell you." I jokingly said, "ohhhhh and just what do you have to tell me?" thinking that perhaps he was quitting wrestling or worse, school. It was then that things became absolutely heartbreaking.

"Miss, I just wanted to tell you that my mom died on December 7. I didn't want to come to school today, but I knew I had to tell you. I needed to talk to you."

My heart sank. Absolutely sank. I cried. He cried. We talked for a bit about his mom and what he experienced (which no 18 year old should have to experience). I couldn't help but feel such heartache for him. And for me, it is a raw emotion right now, coming so close to the 3 month anniversary of the loss of Billy. To hear this young man, who I've grown to really enjoy as a student, say, "Miss, I am motherless. I do not have a mom anymore. I wanted her to be at my graduation. I wanted her to see my kids someday." I watched him try to be so strong, but in the end, just break down and cry. That pretty much did me in.

I immediately messaged my grounding force, my friend Jenny. She, once again, put it so wonderfully into perspective for me.

"Just remember, you're the lighthouse today. You've been the boat out in the ocean, but today you get to be the lighthouse."

WOW. Talk about a powerful statement for me to hear. As my student was leaning on me for support and I heard the words of my former student's mother echoing in my ear, as my posture began to shrink and cower in heartache and hurt and the tears just wanted to keep flowing from my eyes, those words took on a force of their own and drowned out the negative I had been feeling. I stood tall, like a lighthouse, and talked my student through a hard moment. I didn't seek this out, this sought me out. In the midst of his heartache, he chose to come to school because he needed me. And I was there for him. And I will be there for him.

I assured him that while I can't replace his mom, I can be there for him...to support him, to see him graduate, to watch the rest of his life unfold no matter where it takes him. And I assured him that he was allowed to grieve however he needed to grieve in whatever way he chose. I reminded him that he will feel many things, and that they were all ok to feel. I made sure he knew that I was there for him through it all.

It's definitely a different kind of grief, but a shared grief nonetheless. It was a struggle for me to get through the day today....my thoughts where everywhere. My thoughts STILL everywhere. I do believe that God has placed me in certain student's lives for a reason but I also believe that certain students are placed in MY life for a reason. I've said for a few weeks now, that if any student would be the one to get me back to my 'zest' for teaching, it would be this one. I talk about him quite a bit and how I'm channeling Billy when I work with him, talk to him, guide him. And now, I am in a different role, helping a student deal with an unspeakable heartbreak. The tears flow freely......

I'm asking those of you who read my blog to stop what you are doing and offer up a positive thought or prayer for my student and his family. 

The Tuesday struggle is real

If you follow me on Instagram, you saw my post from today. It's Tuesday and I really have come to hate Tuesdays. I feel like everything bad that has ever happened in my life has happened on a Tuesday. I was diagnosed with Cervical Cancer ON A TUESDAY. My beloved Grandma Marilyn died ON A TUESDAY. My stepson died ON A TUESDAY. And it wasn't until Billy's death that I realize just how crappy Tuesdays have been in my life. And I'm sure it's all in my head, but......

This Tuesday started out with an overdraft charge in my checking account (still trying to figure that one out), Penny puking all over my carpeting 10 minutes before having to leave for work (DISGUSTING), and being in a real shitty mood. I heard Martina McBride's version of Silent Night on the radio on my way to work and cried buckets. That song always does me in, but today it was a million times worse. And I can't figure out why the Siri doesn't work in my car (hands free stuff) all of a sudden (which is trivial, I know but today it set me over the edge). It's Tuesday. And as much as I always taught my girls, when having a bad day, "Momma says some days are like that, even in Australia." (thanks Alexander), I can't shake the complete disdain for Tuesdays.

So, in addition to all that, I've been struggling a lot with some inner demons regarding Billy and where I (honestly) fit into his life. Billy and I had a 'different' kind of relationship. I came into his life when he was older, so it wasn't a typical stepparent/stepkid (hate those terms) kind of relationship where we had to 'figure' each other out. I never felt resented or disliked as his stepmom (and if he did feel that way, I NEVER felt it) but due to the physical distance that always separated us, time spent together was always far and few between. My most treasured memory of time spent JUST with Billy happened on our trip to New Orleans for his 29th Mardi Gras birthday. We shared a great morning walking the French Quarter and having breakfast, just the two of us. I wish I could go back to that time...... When he moved to California, my time spent with him became non-existent. It was so much easier for his dad to go visit him (being that he works for himself and could take the time - unlike me, who had to be careful of time taken off during the school year). Sure we made plans, and Billy always asked when I was coming out so he could show me Cali, but for one reason or another, I never made that happen. Enter regret.

I always tried to make sure that he knew where he stood in our lives, in MY life. I always tried to make sure he knew how proud I was to call him 'son'. I always tried to make sure he knew just how much I loved his dad, because if ANYONE loved his dad more than I did, it was Billy. But was it enough? Was it enough?

Being Billy's 'stepmom' was an easy role to have in his life. I always respected the fact that he had a mom (and a good one, too) and so I never ever pretended to be something I wasn't. I was always fully aware that I was NOT his mom. Bill and I would discuss Billy things and I could always give Bill my opinion, advice, suggestions, but ultimately, my opinions were just that. Opinions. I was able to offer my advice to Billy if and when he'd come to me with a situation. That didn't happen often, but when it did, I remember riding Cloud 9. Random texts would put me in a good mood for days!!! I miss that. I miss the outreach. I miss texts and check ins. I miss the kid.

The love and pride in my heart for him was immense. IS immense. It was a different love for a child. I was fully aware I didn't give birth to him, but my goodness did I love him as my own, and in our family, my own two daughters referred to him as 'their brother'. He was part of our family and I often wonder I did enough to make him feel that. It's a constant struggle for me right now. I struggle with if I was enough for him. Did I do a good enough job as his stepmom for him to never question my intentions or my feelings towards him or where he fit with us? I'm pretty sure this all stems from some events that took place in the weeks after Billy passed away, where my own feelings felt challenged and disregarded. It could also stem from really wishing I could get a response from all the texts I've been sending. I miss seeing 'Love ya 2' come back to me after sending a text. I've stopped texting (as much) because the lack of response has been tough. I seriously keep checking my phone, expecting SOMETHING back. ANYTHING. That void is crippling. I know he's not there, but I want him to be. And perhaps it's because Thanksgiving is two days away, and I'm not sure I'm ready for the holidays to arrive because it will be 'different' this year. My heart is just not ready for any of it, and I don't know that it ever will be ready.

Perhaps this is all part of the grieving process. Perhaps these doubts that have crept in are all part of losing a part of our lives. Perhaps I need to stop replaying some of the events of the past 11 weeks. Perhaps. Being stuck in your own thoughts is tough to navigate out of. Today, my own head is my worst enemy. I know what's in my head and heart but uncertainty has become my demon today and it is bringing me down. 

I'm going to try to follow the quote image above....it's a wonderful twofold reminder for me and I have to do better at remembering. I try not to cry because the sun (son) is gone....I need to look to the stars and remember what a bright guiding star we have now. I find some comfort in that and in that comfort there is hope.

I know I'll rise above and will be ok as I work through all this. If you've taken the time to read this rambling post, THANK YOU. As I always say, it's so much easier to write my feelings than speak them.

On grief and loss

Right now, I'm wondering how anyone 'gets over' significant losses. I know time is supposed to ease pain, but I also know from experience, that is not always the case. The losses I suffered in the last 5 weeks are different to me than losing my grandmother almost 10 years ago. That loss took me 8 years to even remotely come to grips with. I truly lost myself when I lost her. I'm trying desperately to NOT let that happen to me again, but lately I feel myself faltering in so many ways. I feel I've lost my twinkle, my spark, my happy zest for life. And that scares me (but I guess it's a good thing I recognize that? Perhaps?).

I wake up each morning with a certain sense of dread. I know it’s not healthy, so spare me the advice on that, but it’s an accurate fact of my life over the last 5 weeks. I am truly thankful for everyone’s outreach and to my closest friends who have listened to me vent my heart aches....you will never know how much I truly appreciate that. I was told, by a very good friend, that “Maybe you're not supposed to be the same. Loss is inevitable. It's too soon to even begin to get through it. You haven't even had all the services yet. Even then it wont be the time. It needs to marinate. His life had meaning and it deserves to be mourned.” These words hold true for both the loss of Billy AND my grandma. This is a raw and unequivocal grief. And I am walking it alone, at my own pace with all the feelings and emotions that come with it. I still have my good moments and my not so good moments (this morning is the latter of the two) but I keep one prayer in my heart daily, and that is the prayer that I will, eventually, find my peace through all of this. My grief is my grief. 

Grief is both a universal and a personal experience....while everyone experiences loss in their lives, their loss is individual, as I was recently reminded by another dear friend of mine, who experienced a grief of his own not that long ago. Everyone experiences grief at some point in their lives, however, HOW you cope with it is your own, personal experience. Grief, for me, comes in waves and at times, I struggle to keep myself above the water. It knocks me down, tosses me around in the surf like a ragdoll, and just when I feel like I've got my footing about me and can escape it's pounding, it hits me again, and the cycle starts all over. At our teacher in-service on Monday, my supervisor went around the room, asking everyone 'How are you coping with daily stresses? What are YOU doing for YOU to keep you from slipping into the abyss?' I lost it. I sat and cried, unable to answer her question, because in all reality, I haven't been doing ANYTHING for me. I feel like my sole (soul's) purpose right now is to be whatever my husband needs me to be for him. In doing that, I've not truly allowed myself to fully grieve. I grieve in private (which I know is ok...but sometimes I need to be able to cry into someone's shoulder, too). I accept that I own my own grief. Only I truly understand where my grief comes from, how deep the loss hurts, how I am going to cope, and how to navigate the stages of grief, that I feel I have no control over. Sometimes, I just need to be able to grieve WITH someone instead of alone.

I just need everyone to be patient with me and know that just because I may smile and seem ok, I am far from it. Be strong FOR me because I certainly haven’t been very strong for myself.....

Not everything happens for a reason

I’ve had many trials in my 46 years on this earth. Life has not been perfect OR easy, this much I can attest to. One thing people constantly want to offer as support is, “everything happens for a reason” when trying to ‘comfort me’ over the many hardships life seemed to throw my way lately. This past month has been no exception. It seems to be the phrase that everyone uses in the hopes that what I've experienced was somehow for my benefit and it would make me a better person, or a stronger person, OR to just simply test my faith. Guess what, people? There isn’t solace in those words, that phrase, the assumption that everything that has happened in the past month happened ‘for a reason’, as if I ‘deserved’ what happened in some way or another. Nope. I’m not buying it and I’m done with that phrase. The loss of Billy is not a test. It is not a lesson to be learned. It is not a gift of some sort. IT IS A HUGE GUT-WRENCHING LOSS. AND IT F*CKING HURTS.

There are trials and tribulations in life that you can easily ‘get over’, this much IS true and I'll gladly concede to that, however, there are other experiences in life that are permanent. They have no ending. You are forever stuck in them and clearly aware there is no escape from the pain and heartache that they bring with them. The only thing I can hope right now, is that time will (hopefully) bring a softening of the pain and heartbreak that we are left to bear for the rest of our lives. It feels as if the world has thrown the fastest curve-ball and it has gone straight through the body and soul, leaving a gaping hole that can never be pieced back together. A massive wound is left and it can’t ever be fixed, no matter how hard you try. This is the best example of what it feels like to lose a child, and even though my loss was that of a stepson, it does not lessen the blow. It doesn’t make this any easier to work through. There is no “moving on” or “getting over it” or even a solid 'reason' for why this has happened. There is no end.

Losing a child hurts like hell and I won’t pretend it is anything but awful, agonizing, devastating, gut-wrenching and heart-shattering. It isn't something I would ever want someone else to have to experience. "Everything happens for a reason” does NOT apply here. I’m sorry, but there will never be a good enough reason that Billy was taken from us. There won’t ever be a good enough reason for the memories that should have been made to be gone. There won’t ever be a good enough reason for everyone else’s lives to still go on as day in day out normal, but yet Billy’s life devastatingly stopped after 34 short years.

I know when people say “remember, everything happens for a reason” it is meant to somehow help cope with the loss. I completely understand that it is said out of love and from a good place. I understand people are at a complete loss of what to say.  Sometimes it is better to just be there with a listening ear, soft shoulder, a simple 'thinking of you' text, and an understanding that life will NEVER be the same for us again.

I will do what I can to keep Billy’s memory alive, always. Please do the same……..