Dear Vanessa,

The 60 points of light on a magic-filled night
Some say it was something of a parting gift,
Honestly, I hit those in my sleep—next to you
I leave enough stats for the historians to sift

But the one that matters most to me is the years
You’ve unflinchingly remained by my side,
The mistakes I’ve made, my human flaws
The sacred vow by which we promised to abide

Vitti once said ball, for me, comes too easy
Perhaps, but the countless hours certainly didn’t hurt,
The court was my sanctuary and you my refuge
I knew you wouldn’t abandon me, you wouldn’t desert

The man into whom I could eventually evolve
You proved willing to see this journey through,
Adulation I didn’t seek–respect was my demand
I had to earn yours, Vanessa, I’ve done all I can do

Jordan I was chasing, immortality my private goal
No angles taken, my teammates I cut no slack,
There isn’t a shot I ever took about which I regret
Except what might have been a couple more with Shaq

A selfishness, they said, but greatness toils alone
I poured it all: Blood, sweat, injuries, hidden tears,
A war of attrition I approached that hardwood zone
Determined to expose my opponents’ fears

If I harbored a few, surely no one knew
That one unspoken fear that haunts me still,
That I might lose my anchor in the storms—it’s you
An invaluable partner for this new soil to till:

Kobe Inc., philanthropy, documentaries to produce
Above all, our two most beautiful angels to raise,
This second act of life I cannot do alone
I need you, babygirl, to clear the fog and the haze

Of a purpose yet defined for a life off the court
No other in the world knows better my inner needs,
Mamba’s strike need no longer be deadly
When my chest is cut, it’s your heart that bleeds

Thank you, my Love, your fidelity and strength
For everything this basketball life has put you through,
My commitment no longer divided by hoops and family
I left it all there . . . now this is what I vow to do:

Pamper you and the girls like a father in full
The Black Mamba’s “in,” what more can I say,
Father Time didn’t win–you, my angels, did
We’re going to Disneyland this Pamper-Her-Friday!

Forever yours,
Kobe

______________

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Romance . . . through the storm . . . lives. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®