I'm back from North Carolina

This past Wednesday we laid my Grandfather to rest. It was a beautiful service. I know it’s a bit of a cliché, but it truly was. Funerals often make me uncomfortable; not so much because of the death and grieving, although it’s often a factor. I’m often more troubled by the tendency of some to laud deceased individuals they thought so little of in life, and to speak of a better place for those whose eternal destination is at best ambiguous. I understand why it happens; I’m just thankful that phoniness and embellishment were unnecessary here.

Later that afternoon we went with Granny to buy a new TV. Hers had recently broken down and she wanted family help picking it out and getting it set up. Later that night it was rather appropriately christened with a Duke/UNC game. My mom is a UNC graduate. I’ve been raised to root Carolina blue since birth. Every time UNC plays Duke I watch not just for the game, but for the comfort of knowing that somewhere my family is watching along with me.

This rivalry is considered by many to be one of the best in sports, the most hyped in college basketball. No other team brings out the emotion in these two that they bring out in each other. Every time they play, they have a thousand reasons to do everything in their power to beat the other.

Still, I choose to believe our Tarheels won this one for Granddad.

I’m a Tarheel born,
And I’m a Tarheel bred,
And when I die I’ll be a Tarheel dead.