Over the course of a year, Miri­am Wein­stein gets a lot of use out of the black ele­ments of her wardrobe. She attends shiv­as and buri­als, says Kad­dish, lights Yahrtzeit can­dles, remem­bers those she has loved. The black is also in the humor, as she exam­ines mourn­ing prac­tices both famil­iar and strange. She also learns how our dead change over time: we keep them with us, even as we let them go.