Thirteen Years Ago in November

October's glory of colors is a memory now. Some trees still sport bright leaves, but the skies are grey more than blue, the air is damp, and there are many days of drizzly drear. Ah, November.

I recall a November day thirteen years ago. I was heavily pregnant with our first child, waiting, waiting, waiting for her to arrive. In the waiting nursery with its freshly-painted yellow walls and wallpaper border of bunnies having tea -- "Afternoon tea for you and me" -- and new furniture, I rocked in the new glider-rocker, watching the trees bend in the wind under a gloomy sky.

I talked to my unborn daughter, addressing her by name. "We're all waiting for you," I said. "You can come anytime. Everything is ready."

Two days later, she was born, a burst of color in the midst of grey November. Life in the waning of the year.