How He Loved Me

Greg gave the best hugs. When his arms wrapped around me, I always felt safe. His smile could light up the night sky.

We had been walking the River Walk together, talking and laughing as we always did. I didn’t realize our time was running out. None of us ever do.

I miss his stories. I miss his laugh. I miss the way he could make an ordinary day feel special. And now summer is coming, and for the first time, he won’t be coming home. God, I’m trying to understand.

He was every mother’s dream. Not because he was perfect, but because he was kind, loving, thoughtful, and fully present. We were both grown adults who understood how precious our relationship was. We appreciated what we had. How he loved me. And how I loved him.

Death may have changed many things, but it cannot change that. The love between a mother and her son does not end at a graveside. It does not disappear with a final breath. It lives on, carried in every memory, every tear, every smile, and every story.

How he loved me, and how I love him – that will never change.

Copyright © Joy M. Mills 2026

MJM (TM)