Another Anniversary

A link to a song my brother posted on his Facebook page popped up on my news feed and it actually took me a moment to figure out why he had posted a song called Tell My Mother I Miss Her So and why now.  And then the sadness and guilt washed over me as I realized I had forgotten that today is the anniversary of my mom's death. 

I used to dread this time of year.  Another year would roll by and as December approached, I would assume this anniversary would be easier, and it was.  Grief consumed me for fewer and fewer days each year.  But December 11 still couldn't come and go without an emotional panic, even if it was a very private one.  And then this year I just forgot. 

I happened to see my brother's post right before I put Soren to bed tonight.  He's so sweet at bedtime. He quietly sucks on his pacifier while I change him into his pajamas and sleepsack.  On the best nights, he'll nuzzle with me before trying to climb out of my arms and into his crib.  And tonight I just couldn't let go of him.  I kissed him and caressed his fuzzy head and he started laughing.  He was so happy about nothing in particular other than that his mommy was rocking him and he got to hold his stuffed monkey.   

Parenthood has allowed me to continue to get to know my mother even though she's no longer around.  Whatever emotion I feel - happiness, frustration, love or anger - I think about how my mom must have experienced the same emotions under similar circumstances with my brother and me.  So as I held Soren tonight and listened to him laugh, I knew that the intense love I feel for my children, a complexity of love I couldn't have envisioned before having children of my own, must be the same love my mom felt for my brother and me.