One of the good memories I have from my stay in the TB place was my little brother. I was around 3, and he was about 18 months. I can remember the feeling of him. Though it doesn't make sense, God left me with that.
I also remember singing to Mach Jofes, or Mark Joseph, as he was really called. In my memories and dreams I hear him crying. There were many babies in that place, but the cries I heard were his. I would sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to him and tell him not to cry.
I held on to those memories forever. Healing for our family and my brother and me has been hard. Although many years have gone by, some hurts and memories no matter how much you trust God just don't fade or disappear.
They are a part of you, especially when the hurt is never forgiven and explored in a healthy manner and embraced by the parties involved. It doesn’t matter how much booze you drink, how many pills you take, how much you know God loves you, or how many times you have been to counseling, memories and feelings from a trauma are just something you learn to cope with and hopefully share with another.
My brother and I share this bond. When ever we get together with my sister and the topic comes up, the pain is almost always too much to bear and Ann just doesn’t get it. “What do you mean, what are you guys talking about?” We just look at each other and know and feel a special sibling connection.
Over the years, 50 to be more accurate, my brother and I have battled the scars and emotional pain left from what I believe is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Of course there is a name for it! The saddest part for me is that my mom and dad never talked about it with us, never made it real.
I have spent the last 13 years reliving what I could from this event in my life. God took me and my brother through the pain differently. We don’t talk about that part of our lives to often but we share the healing bond.
The book in progress, about this and how God’s slow but sure guidance, the healing process, and affects on my life and personality will of course include Mach. I have witnessed the many changes my brother has gone through and whenever I see him, all I have to do is look in those eyes to see that the bond we share it there.
God does not give you more than your mind can handle. He took me on the healing journey, piece by piece, memory by memory and at His pace. Only letting me see, remember and feel what was needed at the time.
Some days I just cry. My wonderful husband understands I guess because of God, and I know my brother’s wife does too. Were it not for the memories of Mach Jofes, and the care his big sister felt inside, I might not be able to love or see this part of my life in God’s light and for His glory.
I never understood the whole thing anyway. But I understand the sibling bond. We don’t get together that often or hang out. But each and every time there is a crisis, a need, an issue or those things that families go through and deal with, “blood is thicker than water” and we are there for each other.
Thank you God for giving me my little brother Mark Joseph, I love him so much.
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