Monday is Halloween, and although we do not celebrate it like we did when my daughter Marcy was alive and young enough to enjoy the night, we still answer the door to the goblins and fairy princesses from our neighborhood.
“How pretty you look,” I say to the young children wearing long princess dresses. “And how scary you look,” I tell the young boys who have on evil masks they hope will scare everyone.
We have spooky music playing through the intercom when they ring the bell. We used to do that with Marcy’s friends especially. Most of the very little ones scream, but they don’t run away (since most have parents with them). Some laugh, older ones, who are just there for the candy, think it’s corny.
It is a tradition, and traditions are sacred. We open the door, check out the masks and the costumes and then place candy in each bag, watching them trail off to the next house, comparing their ‘take’ to make sure they all got equal amounts.
I remember Marcy always tried to make simple costumes, ones that didn’t feel cumbersome on her. She always looked cute, and I always took pictures. After she would go trick or treating, she would bring home the candy and we’d sort it out. If it was not in a closed wrapper, into the garbage it went. She understood why we did this.
Then her father would invariably ask for a few of the ones he liked and being the generous person she was, she gave him what he wanted. The candy was taken to school the next day and friends exchanged, bartered, bargained and gave away some to those who did not get to go out the night before. The candy was discarded after a few weeks, but the memories of a fun celebration lingered.
These are my happy memories of Halloween, and I hold them close to me. Now on Halloween, I don a different type of mask, one that will cover the tears that start to form and the heaviness in my chest as I open the door, remembering years past. Will it always be like this? Perhaps.
Halloween is one of the holidays that still holds joy, laughter and happiness for the little ones. Never did I think that I would be wearing the mask I wear today, that of a bereaved parent. But we can still look back, remember those good times at Halloween, and smile, as we do with all the wonderful memories of our children.
Sandy Fox 2011
I am sorry about the death of your daughter, Marcy. Thank you for sharing some of your precious sweet memories. The holidays can be so tough, especially in the beginning. I have found that even as time moves us further along in the grief journey, holidays can still be tricky and are filled with many bitter sweet moments.