You don't have to like basketball or care for Kobe Bryant to understand that the death of someone “larger than life” reopens the perennial public conversation about loss and grief. Social media is flooded with images, new information continues to be discovered and released. This story isn’t about to fade away and the public outpouring of grief isn’t going to subside either. This is not the "death of a celebrity" this is "communal grief on a massive scale" and the sort of event that reaches kids.
I was 5 when the Challenger exploded -- I didn't need to be an aspiring astronaut to be deeply affected. It was scary and violent and confusing. Adults were bewildered. It was significant and we’re still talking about it 34 years later. I think the death of Kobe Bryant will have a similar social impact, especially on kids.
Here's the other thing: our society is griephobic. We fear grief, push it away, try to get "over" it and "back to normal" as though it's something to be reconciled or fixed. You may get five days bereavement (if you're lucky) then it's back to the grind at the office or school. Casseroles have been replaced by Uber Eats. Pressure to post only the highlights on social media lets our friends rest easy that we're "doing better" or whatever they want to see. As the pace of life online life speeds up and the memorial page is buried on the digital timeline, it can feel like we're more and more alone in our experience of grief. Loss is often accompanied by isolation. The death of a "celebrity" is different -- we come together.
When we stop thinking about the person or people who died, the way it happened and the factors that led to it, we can start to accept that what we're witnessing is one of the only socially acceptable forms of public mourning. The days of dressing in black are long gone. We spend more time at work than home but have little in the way of signalling our loss in a professional environment. Public mourning is a thing of the past, except when we share that loss collectively often in the form of a celebrity.
With this in mind, it's even more important to bring kids INTO this moment rather than shielding them from it. Whatever we're doing or saying, whatever they are seeing elsewhere -- and in Southern California, where Kobe's impact was huge, the coverage is nonstop -- they are learning about death, loss and grief.
Our kids are watching us and whether we're questioning others for grieving someone they've never met or we're deeply, personally moved by this tragic accident, the kids around us are taking note. If your kids are in school, they're encountering even more layers. While society is communally mourning, the kids are filtering and processing this event together. Pre-K kids are talking about this, High School kids are talking about this, teachers are talking about this. They're hearing about it.
We talk about "age appropriate" conversations at "the right time" and I want to hold up the big rainbow checkered glitter flag and draw your attention -- THIS IS THE “RIGHT TIME” YOU WERE LOOKING FOR. Kids are already hearing this conversation, so there is a unique opportunity to bring the conversation home, too. Let me say it again, right now is the moment you've been waiting for to talk with your kids about death. That's a lot of pressure, but it doesn't have to be. It's actually kind of easy.
My simple trick for talking to kids boils down to one word: Ask. It's that easy. Just ask. If you can reorient your approach to the conversation as the person who is looking for information about your kids' understanding rather than the expert offering explanation, you may be surprised how smooth it goes. To make it even easier, here is a conversation starter. You can tweak it, but I think this works for most kids:
"Have you heard about a man named Kobe Bryant lately? What do you know about him?"
There you go. That's the magic conversation starter -- who knows where it'll take you. Maybe you'll talk about legacy, work ethic and sportsmanship. Maybe you'll talk about travel safety and how parents can't always protect their kids from bad things. By all means, give answers in the normal course of conversation, just don't go into it thinking you're about to drop knowledge. Your conversation buddy will let you know exactly what is age appropriate if you focus on asking instead of telling.
I'd love to know where the conversation takes you and the kids in your life. You can reply directly to this email and tell (or ask) me anything you want.
WATCH:
Up, Pixar film (2009)
I didn’t watch Pixar’s Up for years because I’d heard about how people just bawled through the opening. The longer I waited, the more it loomed until I finally watched it in the name of business-research last year. As the kids say, DID NOT DISAPPOINT. The storytelling, art direction and emotional triggers are masterful; it wasn’t just sad, it was cathartic.

The location, the framing, the lighting, the pink hue and blue balloon — all of it tailored to trigger the strongest emotional response and I am HERE for it. With that in mind, why not sit down with the young people in your life and rewatch the opening of Up. Have a good cry without apologizing for it or shielding them from your feelings — hey, the movie was MADE for crying. Plan to pause after that emotional climax and spend some time talking about it.
Wanna know why that sequence in Up is just so devastating? Chris Csont of This Builds Character breaks down the 77 shots with detailed commentary and analysis, everything from color choices to shot framing. (Trust me and DO NOT click this link until you have ample time. I was nearly late to daycare pickup because of this website, thanksalot Chris).
READ:
Tear Water Tea from Owl at Home, by Arnold Lobel (1975)
I could write an entire newsletter about my deep love for Arnold Lobel’s stories, but that’s not what you’re here for. The story Tear Water Tea is a particular favorite. No apologies, no explanations, no moralizing — the entire story is about Owl choosing to sit down and feel some sad feelings, after which he feels a little better. We could all stand to learn something from Owl.

"'Tonight I will make tear water tea,' he said."
Perhaps your family will adopt the idea of “tear water tea” like we have. A big part of grief is feeling safe in letting those feelings out and the theme of big feelings are OK will be a recurring theme in this newsletter.
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Many of the folks reading this newsletter knew my parents and if you knew my parents you probably really liked my parents. We did pretty non-traditional memorials for both of them which I’ll talk about at another time, but in the spirit of communal mourning, I’d like to invite you to visit their memorial pages. Whether you knew them or not, feel free to take a look. This is who I’m missing on a near constant basis:
If you are interested in seeing this expanded into a full article, I’d love to write more (and I have plenty more to say) on this topic. Please feel free to contact me directly at megan@805funerals.com or visit my website: https://www.dailylifeanddeath.com/freelance
As always, if you know someone who may be interested in this topic, I hope you'll forward this message their way or encourage them to subscribe. This is a free newsletter and the archive is available at: https://dailylifeanddeath.substack.com/
This is a once weekly email newsletter written and distributed by Megan Carmichael of Daily Life & Death and all opinions are obviously my own.