In any case, I wish I could say after all this time it’s easier, but it’s not easier. I do have longer stretches, though, when Gilbert doesn’t come to mind, and that is a relief, I suppose. This time of year, though, with the trees fully bare and the leaves collecting in drifts, the sky rather endlessly gray, the expanse of now through to the end of the holidays is abhorrent to me. I hold my breath and wait for January. I barely decorate. A few lights in the windows is all I can muster.
