There are only twelve months, but they all bring different feelings. In my life, October is the month of birthdays. Happy days, as it were. First and second wife, as well as the one and only daughter. In fact, my first wife and daughter were born on the same day. Once upon a time, October was a happy month, and in many different ways, but now it is laden with so many failures at both marriage and fatherhood. Try as I may, I cannot but feel a certain unease as September is ebbing away. The best I can do is to look forward to November. In my life, it is a month without any glitches. Just like September, I hasten to add. But December is behind the corner, and it brings a load of mixed feelings once again. My mother’s birthday, my parents’ marriage, and my first marriage. But January is as good as perfect… It is high time to stop, of course. For better or worse, six out of twelve months are unencumbered by memories of any sort. Yes, I counted no less than thrice. Would that they stayed that way for ever and ever. And October is only a month.