It's as predictable to me now as the leaves and cool air. When it's November in Texas the leaves turn colors (all right, it isn't Vermont, but they do change!). Then they fall. The weather eases up a bit. Chill descends for the last football game or two. But a more accurate sign of the season is that Diane begins to disappear. It happens year after year. Rachel weeping for her children. She continues teaching at Thomas Elementary and at Highland. She continues blessing the thousand people around her. But another part of her hides in a mournful place. My grief is less seasonal. It just comes and goes without warning or invitation. But Diane's is Novemberal (new word). It's the month of mourning. Every year, thankfully, she reemerges.