So the last few days have been pretty crappy around the Henderson house. It seems tears are the only acceptable reaction to anything. We get flowers, we cry; We have incredibly nice people drop food off, we cry; Kerri Jackson writes a beautiful blog post, we cry; Something funny, sad, happy, nice… we cry.

It has been the most beautiful weekend in months in Central Arkansas and yet it seems dark and gloomy.

Saturday night we decided to get out of the house and go to the UALR game, because quite honestly it is the one place we know we can get out of house and not run into anyone that we know because no one goes to the games this year due to a down season.

We have been going to the games off and on for the last 3 years, one of our favorite parts of the UALR games happens sometime between the 6-5 minute mark of the second half. UALR plays the song shout and a guy named Curtis Williams stands up and dances to it. If you ever have been to a UALR game you know what I am talking about, if you have not then please go with us next season.

Now we have never met Curtis personally, heck we sit in the total opposite corner of the arena than he does. However for the first time in 4 days this guy who doesn’t know us or anything that we have been through was able to provide just a little bit of happiness to our life. For the 3 or so minutes that the song last and Curtis does his dance things seemed a little less dark. We were able to laugh, smile and for a few minutes return to a halfway normal life.

I have a feeling that will be the story of the next few weeks/months. I can’t expect the darkness to go away anytime soon, all I can do is try to find these little rays of sunshine.

 
  • http://damnyoulittlerock.wordpress.com/ damnyoulittlerock

    I’ve come to think of grief like this: in the beginning, it’s like a boulder thrust upon you. You can’t breathe; you can hardly walk. But every day, time and space makes it a little smaller, more manageable. Eventually, it becomes the size of a stone you can put in your pocket. It doesn’t every go away. You don’t get over it. You just learn how to walk around without it crushing you.

    The trick is, when the good stuff happens, to purposefully pick up stones to mark the occasion.

    When you empty your pockets at the end of your life, you have the stones of happiness and sadness all there together in a mosaic. It’s the fabric of who you are. And it’s beautiful.

    Not sure that’s in the Bible or a counseling manual or anything, it’s just how I deal.

  • http://www.dillonandrewright.blogspot.com diane

    So glad you’re seeing some rays of sunshine. Y’all are still in my prayers.

    And, I love what Kerri said above about grief. So true.

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