Halloween – On Tiffany Creek

Deciding whether or not to buy that pumpkin could be a lost opportunity, but for what? Three days ago my daughter mentioned she would like a pumpkin, and if I would please check the local market for one on my way home from an errand. So I passed by the market and checked out the supply. One in particular looked pretty good. After checking out its shape, size and condition, I pondered – would this pumpkin be OK? I actually considered not taking it into the store to purchase – I’m not sure what held me back. Its slight imperfections – would it fit the bill? Too much over analyzing – for sure. Well, I took the plunge and lugged it inside to the cash register, where the person bagging groceries said, Do you have candy for the trick or treaters? I said, “No!” “I better get some.” He agreed and was happy to influence me. I didn’t tell him we hadn’t had a trick or treater for 20 years. So, after buying my candy and pumpkin @ $9.99. I asked the man, not young, not old, but a familiar face, bagging groceries, if he wouldn’t take my pumpkin to the car for me. It was kind of heavy. He was happy to oblige. On our way I asked him if he remembered the huge blizzard we had in 2011, which totally ruined our Halloween; the years when we used to get tons of children at the door. He said, “Yes, of course, I remember it.” And proceeded to tell me that night of the storm he was drinking and driving, hit black ice and had a horrible car accident. He said he hasn’t had a drink since. I was impressed with his story and told him I knew a few men who have chosen the same path as he has.

So, if I hadn’t gone in to the buy the pumpkin, I never would have heard the not so old man’s story, a person who has waited on me invariably since the times of Covid, and who has never ever opened up to me in all that time. I took the pumpkin home to my daughter, who excitedly carved out this jack-o-lantern, for her own 14 month daughter, whom she dressed up like a little witch, and marched her up and down the street to stop at all the houses with their lights on to go trick or treating. I think she was the only one out, but still neighbors were hopeful that someone would stop. The pumpkin sat outside on our doorstep with a candle-inside, to chase away all the evil spirits flying through the air.

All of this came to be…

For me, Halloween is a special celebration. My son was born on the 24th of October, 1989. I remember his first. An infant, he was sitting on my lap, in the living room of Pudding Lane, waiting for trick or treaters to come. My husband had taken our 3 year old daughter out around the neighborhood, with friends. She didn’t want to miss out on the fun. Every year after, our children donned homemade costumes, (until they could make their own) and walked around the neighborhood, knocking on doors. “Trick or Treat!”

Even more fun was had when we moved to a different neighborhood. With 28 kids living on the street, there was never a loss for little taps on our door, followed by the thunderous roar of monsters, princesses, and goblins, in packs, screaming in unison, “Trick or Treat”! The same, year after year! Little kids, with silly parents standing by their side, big kids, high school kids, all showed up. I couldn’t wait to see their costumes.

Yesterday was another Halloween. I went out to buy groceries. A clerk with a beautiful green face checked me out. Then I thought, “Forgot to get candy”, so I parked my cart of purchases at the front of the store, and ran and grabbed a couple of bags. Arriving home, I turned on the outside lights, and made dinner. When we finished eating, it dawned on me that no-one had come. It wasn’t a surprise, as it’s been a couple of years now. Our street is dark, and the street off of it is also dark, winding and hilly. No more kids live on this dead end street, more glamorously called a “cul-de-sac.” Dead-End is more fitting for Halloween.

Looking at the candy on the counter, reality set in. Un-opened, I hadn’t put them in a basket by the door, like before. Thoughtlessly, I ripped into a bag, and ate a Mr. Good Bar. My favorite! Relishing the sweet chocolate flavor in my mouth, I said, “Too many left for my own good.”

Chalking up another Halloween; Could this year’s be a latent phase of the ‘Empty Nest Syndrome?’ – A hard knock on the door of Time. A reminder of how to stay forever young! Next year calls for a costume, with a green face, and a sign up at the end of the street. “Open for trick or treaters!”

Tag: Halloween

What Came to Be

Open for Trick or Treaters