When it rains, it pours.

As the son of a preacher I've seen my fair share of death. I've felt it's incomparable sting and icy numbness all at the same time. It was a regular occurence in my househould growing up to see my father oversee multiple funerals in a single week, and there's one thing he always said about people dying: they tend to go in threes. What he meant by this was, not just one person would die, but multiple people in sucession. Of course, this was just a theory of his, with no scientific fact to back it up, but he had seen enough people die to base it off of his experience over a great period of time. My father's theory goes hand-in-hand with the old adage "When it rains, it pours." In other words, when things go bad, they go really bad.

This past weekend and the events it brought made me recall his "theory of three."
Where do I begin? First let me say that some of what I'm going to say here is extremely sensitive material, and as such, will be treated with great care to protect all parties involved.

I'll go ahead and address the lighter of the events. Most all of you know I've been a loyal Tar Heel fan since I was toddling around in diapers. Let me say this. Saturday night hurt. Bad. There's not much else that can be said about it, other than it was shocking. But you know what? It's only a game. Sometimes we, as fans, lose track of that fact. The only people to whom this statement does not apply are the idiots dumb enough to bet their paychecks on it . Their bookies are probably calling hourly with death threats. But for the rest of us, it's just a game. Don't lose sight of that. Just as there were one thousand editions of "the biggest game we've ever played in" before this past Saturday night, there will be many more of the same to come down the road. I promise.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, on to some more serious subject matter...

You all probably saw the quote I posted last week concerning love and trust. It doesn't take the IQ of a MIT student to know that those two things go hand-in-hand. When you love someone, you trust them. It's that simple. And when they break your trust, well, it hurts. It takes a real man to forgive someone for doing something incredibly foolish that could change the lives of all parties involved simultaneously. But it takes an even bigger man to look that person in the eye when they're explaining themselves to you and never get angry to begin with, nor to ever question their motivation in breaking your trust. This past weekend, I did both. That, my friends - that selflessness and understanding - is the ultimate display of love. I wish I could say more on this, but that would be improper. Sorry.

Speaking of selflessness...

It's one thing to talk the talk, but a whole other thing completely to walk the walk. In other words, it's extremely easy to say you'd do anything for someone, but when the time really comes when your profession of that level of commitment is called into action, do you walk the walk? Sunday night I walked the walk. And you know what? I've never been more proud of myself. Sure it cost me a great deal of sleep, induced stress, heartache, and overwhelming empathy for someone I love - not to mention the loss of a vacation day at my job - but I can wholeheartedly say it was worth it. I'd do it again in a second. No questions asked. Why? It's simple really. It's who I am. When I love, nothing stands in the way of that, not even my own personal interests. Isn't that what selflessness is all about?

I really wish I could say more about that here, but it is not really my place. This was more about letting everyone know that this past weekend was one of the hardest of my life, if not THE hardest. But you know what? I made it through, luckily for you all. Who knows what you all would have done without my knowledge?