Signs of Life: Winning Isn't Everything
It's been 17 days since the Carolina Hurricanes won the Stanley Cup and I haven't stopped thinking about it. Not because I'm elated that the Cup is back in Raleigh. I am. Not because I'm bursting with pride for this Canes team that fought so hard for this moment. I am. I can't stop thinking about it because, even after six games, twenty-four Canes goals, three overtime periods, and one shut out, there's still something missing. My dad isn't here. He passed away five days into the new year. And I will never be able to reconcile that.
On June 14, 2026, the Carolina Hurricanes won the Stanley Cup for the first time in 20 years. Seems like a long time. But I spent my entire childhood and early adulthood in the midst of the Boston Red Sox 86-year curse. And then they won the World Series in 2004. After that, two decades between championships doesn't seem so bad. Yet Carolina's journey, though shorter than Boston's, was arduous. And the win, though sweet, wasn't quite complete without having my dad here to witness it with me.
Season after season, we exchanged hundreds of text messages during games. We ignored the sticker shock and bought tickets to the Eastern Conference Finals in 2023, my first Hurricanes playoff game. We continually declared, "They're right on the cusp of another championship." We knew it would happen, sooner or later. And now that it finally has, I am ecstatic. And I am heartbroken. Any I will never understand why he isn't here to enjoy it, why he couldn't have lived for just six more months.
Sports Rituals Don't Take Vacation
I watched the final four games while on vacation, where I continued my rituals: red and black attire and Canes jewelry on game days, black jersey at puck drop, Stormy the plush mascot by my side for the duration. I packed my dad's jersey, too. All the Canes gear required an additional suitcase, but who's counting?
Miraculously, none of the Stanley Cup Finals conflicted with any of our nonrefundable tickets to theme parks, museums, and other events. Even our 25th anniversary vow renewal concluded in time for Game 4 puck drop. (Yes, I have a very understanding husband.)
I looked for signs throughout our road trip. The road sign for Hurricane, West Virginia, as we drove along I-64. The Raising Cane's chicken franchise we passed while walking on Broadway in Nashville. And the "Hello, Darlin'!" magnet that Derek spotted as soon as we stepped foot in our Nashville hotel. That's where we watched the series winning Game 6, ironically just steps from Bridgestone Arena where the Predators play. That's where I cheered as the clock ran out. That's where I cried as the players stormed the ice (pun intended).
I Saw the Sign
Opposing emotions have been playing a chess match inside my heart ever since. As we watched the celebratory parade and rally in downtown Raleigh. As our Stanley Cup Champions gear arrived in the mail. And as I started writing this blog as a way to help me process it all. Then, on June 26, I received the sign that finally helped put my mind at ease.
If you read my blog on numerology, you know that numbers have been a big part of messages from my dad, including on the first day of the playoffs this year. On the morning of June 26, I went downstairs to ride the stationary bike, like I always do. I started the stopwatch on my phone, like I always do. I checked the timer after what felt like 15 minutes and saw all the numbers at zero. I sighed. I went upstairs. I made coffee. I plugged my phone in to charge and up pops the stopwatch, now with numbers in motion. I hit pause and nothing happened. I hit pause again and, finally, the numbers stopped. I've been here before. I know now to pay attention, especially after what the psychic told me.
My stopwatch had stopped at 24:43:22. Those numbers add up to 17, the number Rod Brind'Amour wore when he captained the Carolina Hurricanes to their first Stanley Cup in 2006. His number was retired in 2011. No other Cane will ever wear it again. As current head coach of the Canes, Rod is only the fourth person in NHL history to both captain and coach the same team to a Stanley Cup. Big props to #17.
The date I received this message is not lost on me either. Not the night of the Stanley Cup win. Not during the parade. Not the day I started writing this blog. The message came on June 26, 2026, or 06-26-26. The Canes won their first Stanley Cup in 2006. They won their second in 2026. Seems Dad was here for it after all.
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