What Kobe Bryant’s Death Reveals About Collective Grief
What we’re really mourning when we lose a beloved public figure
My friend Paul is known for making everyone around him laugh uproariously. He is judicious, skeptical — definitely not one for drama. But this past Sunday, when news of Kobe Bryant’s tragic death hit, he was an emotional wreck. For a few hard, heavy hours, I barely recognized him.
Granted, Paul is an avid sports fan. He lives in L.A., is deeply literate in basketball, and has long admired Bryant’s incredible talent and larger-than-life persona. He is also 41 years old, as was Bryant. And of course, he is a feeling human being who was fairly triggered by such horrific news.
But as I watched him shake his head in disbelief at the news, tears welling, I wondered if the grief I saw spilling out belonged to this moment alone. I was reminded of another friend’s acute despair in the wake of Tom Petty’s death. A devoted fan and music junkie, he was nearly mute for days — overcome by the loss. There’s more to this sadness, I remember thinking at the time.
Sadness over the death of a public figure is often so strong because it is permitted.
