Some Days are Just Dark

One Saturday morning, my family was to attend a funeral. It was for an elderly woman that I had never met. My husband knew her because he had done some work for her. My young daughter knew her because she would often tag along so she could play with her kitty. I had never met her but had answered the phone a time or two when she called.

I had felt the darkness of that black cloud hovering overhead in the previous week. The cloud was getting bigger, darker, lower, and heavier. When Saturday morning arrived I told my husband that I’d like to stay home if he didn’t mind. A funeral was not something I thought I could do that day.

I believe funerals are for the living, and I believe it is important to support those that are grieving. I practice this belief enough that I have a friend that refers to it as my “ministry.” However, I knew in this case that my absence or presence would not have any significant meaning since I did not know the deceased or any of the survivors.

During the time that I would’ve been at the funeral with my phone turned off, I received a phone call from Mr. G. An actual phone call was a rarity. “I just pulled into my garage and am sitting in my car and felt like I should call you,” I heard a friendly, understanding voice say.

I explained what was going on and why my family was at a funeral and I was not. I commented that for no reason that I could explain, darkness had blotted out the light and it was getting darker with each passing day. Then I heard, “Some days are just dark.”

It was a simple statement that probably didn’t mean much to many people, but it was profound for me that day. Just like some days the weather might be sunny, cloudy, or rainy; some days can be down right dark. Just like the weather, I didn’t do anything to cause it (that I knew of), and it didn’t mean that there was something “wrong” with me. It just was. Somehow that gave me great comfort. That day was very dark and cloudy, but I knew I could look forward to bright, sunny days ahead.

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