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“The LORD bless you and keep you;
the LORD make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you.”
-Numbers 6:24-26 (NIV)
His hug enveloped me –
as if the strength of his arms
could stop, if only for us,
what was happening on the
other side of the world.
As if holding each other tightly
enough might press pause on the
unthinkable.
For a moment,
I let myself disappear into that
embrace.
I don’t truly remember much
after that.
Trauma does that – it edits.
It blurs.
It spares you details you could not have
survived in real time.
What I know now comes in pieces,
stitched together later
from the accounts of friends
who were there.
From what they saw.
From what they carried
when I no longer could.
I remember Ben’s arms.
I remember his steadiness.
I remember not being able to
stand on my own.
Everything else lives in fragments.
Voices I couldn’t follow.
Hands guiding me.
Time moving forward
without asking my permission.
What I know for certain is this:
I was held when my mind could
not keep up.
When my body gave way.
When the world broke open.
I was not alone.
Two months today,
I am grateful for my son Ben –
Now my only living child
this side of heaven.
And sometimes,
that is the only mercy
memory allows us to keep.
Copyright © Joy M. Mills 2026
MJM (TM)