The Ides of March

This is the day Caesar was murdered by Brutus. The soothsayer warned, "Beware the Ides of March."

It's feeling ominous today. I woke up to see that the futures indicated a huge drop on market open. And they were right. The events in Japan are affecting the markets all over the world. Investors are scared. I'm going to put my head in the sand and close my Fidelity software, and turn off CNBC and play some Enya or Allison Krauss. Something soothing.

The reason I remembered today is the Ides of March is that it's my mother's birthday. She told me that. It also used to be the individual income tax deadline, way back when. I didn't think I'd feel so sad today, but when I woke up and realized it, my heart was heavy.

My brother died May 1st. 12 years ago. It sneaks up on me every year. You know how on the first day of every month, you say, "Wow, I can't believe last month's over already."? Every May, when I have that moment of realization, I also realize it's May Day. The joyous celebration of spring with dancing around the Maypole. And then I think of the distress signal: Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. That's how it felt when my phone rang in the early morning hours. Before I answered it, I knew. My mother's voice on the other end, relaying the terrible news. As much as my heart was breaking, I couldn't imagine the despair my mother was experiencing. She wasn't the same after that. Every year, I'd call her on that terrible anniversary, to tell her how much I loved her and how much I missed David. She struggled so much with that loss. It was hard for The D, too, but he couldn't express it.

My strategy to get through the day is to celebrate my mother's life. To remember the ways she demonstrated unconditional love for me. Her great sense of humor. Her strength and independence. These are just a few of the legacies she left me.

I want to make the day special for Daddy. So I've invited some sweet family members over for dinner. My niece and her husband and two precious children. Her little boy looks so much like my brother (his grandfather) when he was that age. And like me, too, lucky kid. And my sweet sister-in-law. Not sure Deb can make it. She's under the weather.

Happy birthday, Mother. We miss you...