Erika Kirk reveals the advice Usha Vance gave her after Charlie’s death—and how it carried her through a year of grief
One year after Charlie Kirk was fatally shot during a public appearance in Utah, his widow, Erika Kirk, has shared an intimate account of the grief that followed and the simple advice that helped her endure its most painful moments.
Charlie, the founder of Turning Point USA, was killed while speaking at Utah Valley University on September 10, 2025.
In an opinion piece published Monday by The New York Times, Erika described returning to the Phoenix home she shared with Charlie and their two children after rushing to Utah.

Erika said the day felt like “a fever dream” as she confronted a home filled with reminders of the life her family had lost.
“As I walk to the front door, there’s a tightening in my chest I don’t recognize,” she wrote. “Is this what grief feels like?”
She sat on the same couch where Charlie had watched the Chicago Cubs with their children two nights earlier and felt an emotional “wave” beginning to build.
Usha Vance offered one simple instruction
As Erika struggled to understand how she could continue, she confided in Second Lady Usha Vance.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” Erika told her.
Holding Erika’s hand, Usha compared the experience to enduring the final minutes of a difficult flight with distressed children. Eventually, she explained, the plane lands and the children settle.
“Just get through the next 15 minutes,” Usha told her.

That brief message became Erika’s guide through the year that followed: focus only on surviving the next 15 minutes.
“Her words are seared into my heart,” Erika wrote.
Usha and Vice President JD Vance accompanied Erika aboard Air Force Two when Charlie’s body was transported to Arizona on September 11, 2025.
Ordinary reminders became deeply painful
Erika said it took time before she found the courage to enter the bathroom she had shared with her husband.

Charlie’s toothbrush remained on its side, and his towel was still hanging from its hook. She remembered promising herself that she would never touch it.
In their bedroom, Erika looked at his pillow and wondered how long his scent might remain on the sheets. Standing in silence, she replayed memories of the ordinary mornings they had spent there together.
She was not ready to sleep in their bed that night. Instead, she climbed into bed beside their three-year-old daughter and repeated Usha’s advice to herself.
“For months, I avoided my bedroom,” Erika wrote. “I told myself it was OK to confront the pain gradually and to sit with each memory as it came to me.”
The smallest details of home—his towel, toothbrush and pillow—became reminders of a life that had changed without warning.
Milestones arrived without Charlie
Over the following months, Erika faced a succession of firsts without her husband, including the first Saturday without one of his love notes, as well as birthdays and Christmas.
“The wave crashes on me again and again,” she wrote. “Every time, just get through the next 15 minutes.”

Her grief also followed her into the courtroom during a preliminary hearing for Tyler Robinson, the 23-year-old accused of killing Charlie.
“To the world, he was Charlie Kirk,” Erika wrote. “But to me, he was the love of my life. To our children, he was the center of their world.”
Erika described grief as an experience that reaches beyond political affiliation, personal beliefs or background.
“Grief is universal,” she wrote. “It doesn’t care whom you voted for, where you come from or what you believe.”
Survival gradually gave way to living
Erika acknowledged the painful conflict between grief and the passage of time. While part of her wanted life to pause or move backward, she came to believe that those who have died would not want their loved ones to spend the rest of their lives attempting to return to the past.
“At first, I needed to survive the next 15 minutes,” she wrote. “Over time, I’ve realized that Charlie would want me to live them.”
The advice that initially helped Erika survive her most unbearable moments eventually became an encouragement to keep living.

She concluded by sharing Usha’s words with others experiencing loss, without promising that the following day would be easier.
“I will tell you what a dear friend told me: Just get through the next 15 minutes,” Erika wrote.
“One day, maybe when you least expect it, you’ll start to see that those 15 minutes hold more than just grief.”
For Erika, the sorrow remains, but it now exists alongside something else.
“The grief is there, always,” she wrote, “but so is the beautiful gift of life.”