The forecast is for gray. It is described as rain, mist, fog. My mood matches the forecast. I am gray. I am experiencing gray feelings. In the midst of a season where every effort is made to instill a myth of commercialism, of perfection, of artificial light, I experience gray feelings. As this year ends, and I count the people I know, people in communities I care about, I count the number of empty places. I am aware, that as I age, this is the norm. There will be more empty seats every year. My seat might be empty next year. It is a gray season yet not without light. As I look at my life I consider the bright aspects of my life, beyond the gray honesty of my failures. Acknowledging, humbly, I have done the best I could, at the time, with what I had. I continue to do the best I can, in this moment, with what I have. Forgiveness requires courageous polishing to radiate. I am grateful for the accomplishments in my life. Accomplishments, the result of the wisdom of experience, strength, and hope. The season is gray, a restful, restorative, promising moist time to forgive, let go, and await new growth.