FLOWERY BRANCH, Ga. — Za'Darius Smith's smile stretched across the full length of his face. A towel raised high over his head, he broke into a run.

For a moment, if you merely glanced at his face, Smith looked less like a 12-year NFL veteran and more like a kid who had just fallen in love with the game. Pure happiness.

He was on the sideline during the Atlanta Falcons' second preseason game at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis. Tyler Goodson had just scored on a 49-yard touchdown run, and head coach Kevin Stefanski said he would allow a moment of celebration. What that ultimately turned into was all of the starters who didn't suit up for the game rushing onto the field and celebrating in the endzone.

Smith was just a couple days into his tenure with the Falcons after signing with the organization earlier that week. He did not participate in joint practices in the lead up to the game, but he made sure to get to Indianapolis for the game action itself. And when the team rushed the field, there was Smith: arms thrown in the air, a shout ripping from his lungs, a smile of unadulterated joy upon his face.

Joy. Happiness. A little like his old self.

Something almost foreign.

"I haven't been that happy in a long time," Smith said.

Ten months earlier, Smith was living in Philadelphia, playing on a one-year deal with the Eagles when he received a call. It was his mother's doctor on the other end of the line. She wasn't doing well. The prognosis wasn't good, and the doctor felt the end was near.

Smith went to his mother. Cared for her, loved on her until she passed.

He wasn't supposed to retire, but if he wanted to be there for his mother, retirement was the only avenue he had. He did so in the middle of the 2025 season, on Oct. 13.

Then, came more loss.

In rapid succession, Smith lost his grandmother and his father, too.

"I was in a dark place," Smith said, choking back the emotion that came with a wave of grief.

So much loss, magnified by his decision to also walked away from the game he loved.

He didn't regret the decision. Oh no. But in the aftermath of so much loss, football became just another thing he had lost. And without it, the light and joy became harder to find.

Then, one day during those dark days, Smith's personal trainer called.

The trainer had been checking in on him. This time, he asked Smith to come work out.

Just move your body.

Feed your spirit.

So, Smith started back slowly, working out twice a week. And with every rep, something began to return.

Life.

As the workouts intensified and became more frequent, Smith started posting videos of the workouts to social media. The clips got in front of the right people, specifically, Smith said, Cleveland Browns general manager Andrew Berry.

Smith played for Berry in Cleveland from 2023-24. Berry initially just wanted to check in, to see how Smith was doing mentally. Then, he asked the question that would change Smith's outlook: Would he be interested in playing again?

Smith's answer was a resounding and absolute "yes."

"I need to come back," Smith remembers thinking at that time, "because I am at my lowest right now."

He went up to Cleveland and worked out. Though the workout went well, Smith said ultimately neither side "could get the number right."

Meanwhile, in Atlanta, the Falcons' pass rush took a major hit. Jalon Walker suffered a season-ending ACL injury in practice. Later that week, James Pearce Jr. was dealt an eight-game suspension to start the season.

The Falcons needed pass rush help. So, Smith got another call from an old friend. This time, it was Berry's former Cleveland counterpart now Falcons head coach, Kevin Stefanski.

After a workout in Atlanta, the offer to join the Falcons came in. And for Smith, who says he has a lot still left to give to the game, it was "perfect."

"When I was going to Cleveland, they were telling me I was going to be the third guy in the pass rush room," Smith explained. "But when I got the call here, it was like, 'Man, we need you to come in and play for us.'"

Perfect, and, to Smith, divinely orchestrated.

Back in the early days of Smith's career, his late mother always held onto hope that he would one day play for the Falcons.

You see, Smith is originally from Montgomery, Alabama, just a two- to three-hour drive to Atlanta. The Falcons were the closest NFL team to home.

"She always wanted the fam to come up and support me for the games," Smith said, "because that is the closest route."

As fate would have it, Smith is now an Atlanta Falcon. And once he's fully suited up for a game at Mercedes-Benz Stadium, he's planning to rent a couple Greyhound busses. He's going to park them in front of his mom's church, perhaps post to Facebook that anyone who wants to come to a Falcons game can get right on.

"That's who my mama always wanted to come," Smith said, "the church family."

For Smith, the last year of his life has been marked by loss. The loss of his mother. His grandmother. His father. He lost football, too — the game that had defined so much of his life.

But somewhere along the way, in the middle of all the darkness, Smith started finding his way back.

Back to the weight room.

Back to the football field.

Back to the game.

And, perhaps most importantly, back to himself.

The joy isn't what it was before. It has been reshaped by everything he's lived through. But it is there again. It's in the workouts, in the locker room, in the rush of a teammate scoring a touchdown, in the sight of that towel flying high above his head as he runs toward the end zone under the lights of Lucas Oil Stadium.

He's back playing football. And maybe somewhat serendipitously, he's playing for the team his mother always hoped he one day would.

"This is my happy place," Smith said, "come back and play football."