When he was still a child, I’d wonder if the nuns had allowed him a tree and if they’d given him gifts. I had no idea how they celebrated Christmas in the convent, though I suspected it would be austere. I hoped that a child’s energy might persuade them to be more frivolous.

And then as Daniel grew up, I wondered if he was happy and if he ever thought of me; if he was well-adjusted or if he simmered with anger over his abandonment. The older he got, the less I worried, though it should have been the other way around. Children, for the most part, are nurtured and protected. Adulthood is the point at which we’re thrown to the wolves. Wasn’t it just as I’d stepped over the threshold of selfhood—at the very moment when I’d expected my life to get easier—that everything had so spectacularly fallen apart?

Since I’d spent every Christmas without Daniel, I wasn’t prepared for how difficult the first one after his death would be; there had always been comfort to be found in the knowledge that he was out there somewhere in the world even though he wasn’t a part of mine.

When I got back from my morning hike, I was expecting to find Ruth still in bed battling her usual morning hangover.

“There you are,” Ruth said as soon as Jezebel and I stepped through the door. “I was worried you’d be late and that lunch would be ruined. Go wash up! You’re all sweaty.”

“Look who’s talking.” Ruth’s face was more flushed than mine, but it was clear from all the food on the kitchen counter that she’d been slaving over a stove in a beastly hot kitchen for a few hours.

“Hot flushes,” Ruth said. “From menopause.” She waited a beat and then said, “You know, pausing between men.” She looked so desperate for a reaction that I didn’t try to hide my smile. She beamed in response. “I hope you like roasted everything.”

I took a quick shower before returning, my hair still wet when I sat at the table across from Ruth. We didn’t have any Christmas decorations up but she’d laid out festive hats and crackers. “Here, let’s pull a few.”

The first bang sent Jezebel running to hide behind one of the couches, her tail between her legs. After coaxing her out, we opened the rest of the crackers by pulling the wrappers apart and then swapped the trinkets like we used to do as children. Nothing had changed since then. Ruth still went for anything sparkly or girlie, whereas I preferred the magnifying glass and tiny deck of cards.