Cherishing What She Lost: Basketball, Grief and Healing With Nika Lokica

WARNING: This feature story contains themes of death and grief. Information on mental health services and resources can be found at the end of this story.

September 15, 2021 was the worst day of Nika Lokica's life.

That was the day she learned that her mother, Žana Lelas, had passed away.

The person that raised her, coached her, was there through ups, downs and everything in between, was gone.

Lokica was in a state of shock for the better part of two years, not fully understanding what happened to her family.

"I realized she was not there," Lokica said, "but I don't think I thought about not having her at my graduation, at my games, one day hopefully my wedding.

"That's the one thing I'm so jealous of… people who get to have both parents."

But instead of letting the grief isolate her, Lokica's relationship with her dad, Vjekoslav, has deepened because of her mom's passing.

"We were obviously always very close," Lokica said. "But it was just awkward in the beginning. It was hard. It always felt like someone was missing.

"He was doing the best he could to fulfill that role. He's always been overprotective and now I understand it because he's all I have. I don't think I realized all the things he was doing for me."

First and foremost, her dad encouraged Lokica to keep playing the sport that her mom loved: basketball.

"Without basketball, I would be no one. I genuinely wouldn't know my identity."
Nika Lokica

Lelas played basketball at the highest level, representing Yugoslavia at age 18 in the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea, where she led her team to a silver medal. After a long playing career representing Yugoslavia and Croatia, she founded the Basketball Academy Žana Lelas in 2016 and served as the head coach. Naturally, her daughter followed in her footsteps and even played with her as the head coach in the summer of 2021.

"I don't think people realized how famous she was because she was just so humble about it," Lokica said. "That's what I always loved about her."

Five months after her mom passed, Lokica tore her ACL. On top of recovering mentally, she now had the hurdle of a physical recovery. To make matters worse, there were complications with her surgeries that extended the rehabilitation process even more.

She was thinking "I'm done. I'm done playing and I hate my life."

And yet, her father urged her to move to the United States, over 5,700 miles from home in Split, Croatia, to continue her basketball career.

Fellow Split native Dora Goles happened to be an alumna of Idaho State and on the Bengals' coaching staff, so Lokica spent the first three years of her college experience in Pocatello, Idaho.

The sting of losing her mom was not in the forefront of Lokica's mind as she started college.

"I don't think I realized I was lost because I was like, 'oh this is great. This is your experience, your home away from home.' I was trying to forget what happened."

After sitting out her first year to recover and playing two years of hoops, Lokica earned her bachelor's degree and had another decision to make. She knew she was going to transfer for something new, but where was the question.

She loved her teammates, and still does. She's been in five of their weddings. But a fresh start on the basketball court was in order.

Maria Marchesano, who was the head coach of Purdue Fort Wayne at the time, had Lokica on a visit and she was sold. She knew Purdue Fort Wayne was her next home by the time she was getting dropped off at the Fort Wayne International Airport.

"One of the important things coming to Purdue Fort Wayne was finding a head coach and coaching staff who was going to understand me," Lokica said. "But also not look down on me for what happened to me in my life.

"With coach Marc, I had a great relationship because she lost her mom too. She came in a role that I don't think she even understands what she did to me last year."

It was at Purdue Fort Wayne where Lokica started to fully comprehend the grief that she self-admitted to shoving down. That understanding in large part came thanks to Donovan Martin, mental performance coach for the Mastodons, and Marchesano.

"Some of my first conversations with Nika were about understanding what she's going through and being able to discuss what life is like right after losing your mom," Marchesano said. "Right away it was good for us to have somebody near that knew what that felt like and that gave us a connection right away that we knew very few people could understand. Our relationship off the court allowed us to have a very transparent relationship on the court. If either of us were having a rough day we knew to give the other that extra bit of encouragement."

That link with Marchesano helped put things into perspective for the then 21-year-old Lokica.

"When you lose your mom, it sort of puts a time stamp on the rest of your life," Marchesano said. "Everything that happens that's good, you wish your mom was there to see it. Everything that happens that's not good, you wish your mom was there to help you through it. I think Nika and I both see life through that same lens. Knowing that she was having the same thoughts I have through highs and lows, that helped bond us even more."

Lokica learned quickly that Fort Wayne was exactly where she needed to be.

"There's familiar faces all around," Lokica said. "It genuinely gives me a home away from home."
Nika Lokica

Even after Marchesano departed to coach at Butler, Lokica knew the Summit City was going to retain that title of home, and her new coach, Kate Peterson Abiad, was the coach she needed.

"This year is putting me in a new role, so I'm trying to figure that out," Lokica said. "But I feel like coach KPA believes in me that way. That's why I decided to stay here."

And it goes both ways; Lokica was the person Peterson Abiad wanted to bridge between eras. Not only on the basketball court, but as someone others in the program can look up to and draw from her life experiences.

"Nika can put things into perspective a little bit better, maybe because she's had such tragedy," Peterson Abiad said. "Some of the things on a day-to-day basis can be navigated better, and maybe that's not common. I wouldn't say Nika is common. She's uncommon in a really, really good way. The situation and the scenario has made her stronger and she uses it for good.

"She values relationships. She understands that time is not always on your side and it can be limited, so she invests in people. Sometimes you see kids who struggle with grief stay away from others, but I think Nika is the opposite. She understands how precious relationships are."

First and foremost is that relationship with her dad. Since the move to Fort Wayne, the Lokicas are separated by about 5,000 miles. Not exactly a quick trip, so FaceTime is a frequented app on Lokica's phone. She talks with Vjekoslav every day.

When Lokica does manage to get home to Croatia for a break, the goal is simple: enjoy the time she has with her dad.

"I don't need to go have a drink with a person I haven't seen in a year. I just want to be with my dad, and I love that."

In Split, her days could be viewed as mundane to some. Sleep in, have a coffee, head to the beach, watch some Netflix, walk with the dog and chitchat on the porch.

"That's all I ever want to do, just be with him. I don't think I tell him that enough.

"I don't think people realize how blessed they are to get older and have those relationships with parents."

The pain never fully goes away, but Lokica is able to reflect on the grief and keep moving forward, with a message to those struggling with loss.

"Don't let your losses define you," Lokica said. "Embrace them. Have them be your fuel for life. Cherish what you lost.

"I was trying to push it away so far that I didn't realize that keeping it close to me was something I needed."

Every time Lokica takes the floor in her final season at Purdue Fort Wayne, she will be playing in a new chapter of the game her mother loved. She will look to lead the Mastodons on and off the court and honor her mother along the way.
Nika Lokica