Sometimes What Helps Is Incredibly Ordinary

After my three-year-old daughter, Katana Rose, passed away from acute leukemia, I downloaded an app on my iPhone that was supposed to detect spirits.

I wish I were joking.

It was called GhostTube.

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There I was, a grown man, walking around my house holding my phone out, hoping some frequency would come through and somehow give me a sign from my daughter.

Eventually I deleted it. Dumbass..

You would give almost anything for another conversation, another sign, another hug.

Unfortunately, there are people who understand that vulnerability a little too well.

One time, a woman showed up in my Instagram DMs telling me that my daughter was communicating with her through crystals.

Apparently Katana had a message for me!!

The message, conveniently, involved me purchasing some rocks online via Zelle.

I am still trying to understand the business model.

My daughter reaching across dimensions, making contact with a complete stranger on Instagram, and somewhere during this supernatural communication decided that Dad needed to get his credit card out. Talk about aggressive marketing!

Grief has an entire industry around it. Crystals, readings, apps, spiritual products, religious answers. Everybody seems to have something to offer you when you are desperate enough to listen..

And then there were the prayers. ugh.

I heard “I’ll pray for you” more times than I could ever count.

I know plenty of people who said it genuinely cared about us, and I respect that. But I also had people use what happened to my daughter as an opening to push Christianity on me when I was grieving... It PISSED ME OFF!

If your faith helps you through grief, I understand that.

My grief just was not an invitation to sell me a religion any more than it was an invitation to sell me a rock… Ya know?

Especially because while all of these people were offering answers about the afterlife, we were dealing with something very real here on Earth:

Bills. MONEY ISSUES!

There were medical expenses, lost work, and funeral costs on top of all the normal financial responsibilities that apparently did not get the memo that our daughter had passed away.

Rent does not enter a period of mourning.

The electric company does not send a sympathy card and tell you to take a few months off.

You can be experiencing the worst moment of your life, and Rent-A-Center will still come knocking for the 5-piece furniture set!

For me, talking has never been the magic solution. There are only so many times I can explain how I feel before I would rather do almost anything else.

Take me to a movie. Play video games with me. Get me outside. Take me somewhere stupid. Make me laugh. Sit next to me without requiring me to turn my grief into a conversation.

Distraction has been one of the biggest tools I have found for living with trauma.

And I am going to say something people sometimes seem uncomfortable saying:

Money helps.

It does.

Money cannot bring your child back. Obviously.

But it can pay the electric bill sitting in front of you. It can buy dinner when nobody in the house has the energy to cook. It can take your surviving children somewhere for a day and give the family a few hours where their entire identity is not “the family that lost a child.”

Money gives you choices at a time when you do not feel like you have many.

That is the kind of help I remember.

A hug.

Getting me out of the house.

Being around me.

Helping with something that actually needed doing.

Making me laugh when I did not think I was supposed to laugh.

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You do not need to solve somebody’s grief. You cannot.

And you definitely do not need to arrive with the perfect explanation for why their child passed away.

Please, for the love of everything, do not tell a grieving father that his child contacted you from another dimension and would like him to purchase a mineral.

We are vulnerable enough already.

We do not need another sales funnel.

Sometimes what helps is incredibly ordinary.

Food. A movie. A ride somewhere. A stupid joke. A little financial relief. A few hours where their brain gets to think about something else.

And occasionally, apparently, enough time to realize that the ghost-detecting app on their iPhone probably is not going to work.

I can laugh about some things now. Humor also helps. Especially when I think of GhostTube…

I was also a grown man walking around his house trying to communicate with the dead through an iPhone app.

And I think Katana would probably laugh at me too. “Daddy… You’re a goofball.”

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Trap Gambino is a Las Vegas-based father, entrepreneur, media personality, and founder and CEO of Made Fight League™. After his three-year-old daughter, Katana Rose, passed away from acute leukemia in 2022, he began speaking publicly about fatherhood after child loss, grief inside marriage and family, and the pressure to keep leading while still rebuilding.

Learn more about Trap Gambino and his family’s grief story in this video feature.