The Halloween Graveyard

The other day, while mindlessly driving down a narrow, fall-colored, leaf-filled neighborhood street, I noticed that Halloween decorations were beginning to appear.  Pumpkins.  Ghosts.  Witches.  And then the graveyard.

I slowed down to take it all in.  The Halloween graveyard.

This particular family had elaborately constructed a very real-looking cemetery complete with a spider-webbed decorated iron fence, an ominous looking entry gate and more tombstones than I cared to count.  I smiled a little and shook my head.  Innocent and ignorant I’ve come to call them.

Twenty years ago my response was different.  Twenty years ago, my wife and I were trying to figure out how to survive (that’s all we asked for back then) our first Halloween without our first-born child.  Our 18-month-old daughter Erin had died suddenly just a few months earlier on July 18, 1990.

We had done the unthinkable.  Together we walked into the funeral home’s showroom and picked out a casket for our little girl.  Not a new bed.  Not a new bike.  Like other mommies and daddies got to do.  We bought a casket.  And together we picked out an outfit.  The outfit “she’d wear”… well, forever.  And we purchased a plot.  In the children’s section of a cemetery.  And designed a marble marker.  “I carry your heart,” it reads, that was placed above her body.  In the cemetery.

Twenty years ago, when grief was so new, and fresh, and unsettling, and confusing, that first Halloween made me angry.  How dare they decorate with gravestones?  How dare the build fake cemeteries with blood-stained hands and arms and legs reaching up from the earth.  It all felt cruel and inhumane and specifically directed at me and my wife that year.

But as the months passed, and turned into years, and as I set the intention to heal all that needed to be healed…my relationship with the Halloween cemetery changed.  As did my relationships with so many other parts of my life.

Innocent and ignorant.  And I mean that in the nicest way.  I realized and understood that the Halloween cemetery builders were not trying to hurt me.  They weren’t trying to cause me more pain.  In truth, that weren’t even really thinking of people like me.  People learning to live with the death of our children.  As I drive past now, twenty years later, I simply share my head and smile…a little.

Tom Zuba

Tom Zuba

More Articles Written by Tom

Tom Zuba believes that loss cracks us open, giving us the opportunity to consciously participate in the transformation that awaits us. Tom’s 18-month-old daughter Erin died suddenly in 1990. His 43-year-old wife Trici died equally as suddenly on New Year’s Day 1999 and his 13-year-old son Rory died from brain cancer in 2005. Tom and his teenage son Sean are learning to live a full, joy-filled life, one day at a time. He is an author, inspirational speaker, and workshop facilitator who appeared in April 1999 with best selling author Gary Zukav on The Oprah Winfrey Show. Tom appeared on the radio show “Healing the Grieving Heart” talking about “What Do I Do Now; Dealing with Multiple Loss.” To hear Tom being interviewed, go to the following link: https://www.voiceamerica.com/episode/26528/what-do-i-do-now-dealing-with-multiple-losses

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  • DEB KOSMER says:

    Tom, you touched my heart deeply. I just came across this now. It is doubly meaningful as Oct 25 is the date of my son’s death. I cannot imagine the heartache you have been through with the deaths of your wife and two children. Thanks for all you have done and are doing.

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