LIVE

Life can be weird.

After a three hour ride to Athens, Georgia I reminisced about Jay and his life, our life, and his next life. What came out of that were these words that I thought needed to be shared before I say goodbye.

Last Thursday I was following my normal routine and listening to a podcast on my way to work. Tim Ferriss was interviewing Kevin Costner. It was a facinating interview. Costner was discussing his first big break which was The Big Chill. For those too young to know, the story is about a group of friends who reunite around a fellow friend’s funeral.

Foreshadowing.

In the middle of the interview I got word that a dear friend had taken a turn for the worse. The last communication I had was that Jay was doing better, not out of the woods, but improving.

Jay didn’t make it through the day.

I got the call while working the Gamecocks’ NCAA tournament soccer game with Furman. In the middle of the second half I got the call and began sobbing uncontrollably. That was one of a dozen breakdowns I would have over the course of a few days.

Maybe it was the thought of his wife. Maybe the thought of his two beautiful girls and how they would fill the void left by such a loving father. There was also the thought that my only other significant loss came on a similar day three years earlier when my grandfather passed away — the Thursday before I worked a home football game against the Citadel; which is who the Gamecocks played Saturday.

On my drive I thought a lot about Arabelle, his oldest. What would she ask? How would she be answered? Why? Will she forget about her Dad? What was he like? (He left some footprints behind)

I cried again.

But then I made some sense of it all. Make no mistake, I never questioned God. I believe in Him and he is undefeated. However I am smart enough to know I don’t understand everything; nor do I have to. But my takeaway was this — Live.

Live life. Jay did. I would think that is what Jay would tell Arabelle.

Facebook has been peppered with an outpouring of love and affection for Jay. I only hope he knew how much people cared for him. In the tight-knit community that is college athletics we are all stitched together by a common thread. It is quite stunning the reach of a single person. I am convinced it is because he never passed up an opportunity to live life.

Jay never met a stranger. He was always happy and “up for whatever”. There was the time a few of us were tailgating at a high school playoff football game and made up a backstory that we flew into town from Oregon just for the game. Then there was the Vanderbilt basketball game we worked that had a throwback theme and we went to the thrift shop and wore ridiculous 70s clothes to the game. The final memory I will share is his recreation of his college band for one show in Nashville — and his absurd leather pants.

I’ll define “living life” by this: call a friend just to talk, volunteer, spend time with your family, do something foolish, take a risk, and have a smile on your face.

So buddy, in just a little while I will say goodbye, but I will defintely see you on the other side.

Until then, I will live life.