Halloween that is, Halloween sucked.
We love Halloween in this house. Always have.
It is only fair that I give the Halloween crush credit to my oldest son, "the button."
He spend most of his adolescence dressed in costume. It was HIS holiday.
I was crazy enough to give this over-the-top ADHD kid a knife and eight pumpkins, some spray paint and glitter. He was ahead of his time with the pumpkin carving. Nothing is cooler than a carved pumpkin spray painted black.
Holiday inflatables came out when he was about 10 and that was all we needed to add to the hysteria. The "button" ordered a spider from a magazine and we blew that bad boy up and he nailed it to the roof.
He loved when people would comment about that spider.
And somewhere in the midst of all of this, Halloween traditions began.
We pass out "big candy bars (always Hershey), have Cider and water for the kids, fires, shots, you name it. We embraced ghosts and goblins.
Until this year. I didn't even carve a pumpkin. No spray painted pumpkins and no glitter either. I just didn't have my Halloween hype as in years before. No clam chowder in the crock pot, nothing.
Addie had driver's ed training, Walker football practice and they both got home and either went to a girl friend's house or the boyfriend came here. No costumes, no help, no fun. No adults, no fire, very few kids.
I was feeling it and a text came. "Missing our Halloween's in the past. We had such good times. Hope you all are doing well."
Ahhhha, it wasn't just me. Another mom as well was feeling it.
Another mom chimes in, "Me too."
And another, "we had no kids."
Misery loves company, I suppose. I just sat there with my empty, quiet porch steps, when suddenly three adults appeared.
These three adults and their goblins "were regulars Halloween night." But there the adults were there because the kids had come and gone and were "out on their own."
And there you have it, my pity party because my kids are growing up. Christmas, Easter and now Halloween. Franklin and I chatted with our adult goblin friends and we all felt it. We talked about where we might move in the next two years as our kids graduate from High School and what the future might hold for us.
They left and I gathered up some of the outside decorations with sadness. All these years of Halloween hysteria are dried up.
The kids have moved on and I didn't give them permission, they did it on their own. Damn, I hate it when my kids do what I have taught them and become independent.
And I missed my oldest child, my "button", my Halloween kid. I missed the relationship we once had and the Halloween anticipation and excitement he created.
His shooter was just sentenced to 50 years (he's 40) and transported to a prison. The shooter got 50 years and the button got the life sentence. But the justice system was fair.
The button does not speak to us, he is still that angry. I get it, kind of, a little I guess. I mean if you are going to be angry at someone, chose those people that never will give up on you. Makes sense. But the pain, well it is immeasurable.
So I had my tiny pity party cleaning up the yard and blowing out luminaries by myself. The neighborhood was quiet and calm, no hint of bonfires or wishing lanterns.
I couldn't help but wonder, is this a sign of things to come? Will I be this sad at the "last wrestling match or football game?" Was this feeling going to come every time we had one of those 'last moments?"
I went inside and folded laundry. My heart was sad.
I thought about my lone Trick-or-Treater who got out of the car and walked alone down the walk. He did the "trick-or-treat" and he had some lemonade, chose a Hershey bar and he sat down on the steps. He sat there just drinking his lemonade in comfortable silence and he says, "You know, I have been coming to your house for ten years now and I don't even know your name."
I laughed and said, "well you have been coming here for ten years and I don't know yours either."
We laughed. I asked him where his friends were and he said, "they slow him down."
I laughed. He got up, handed me his cup for the trash bag and said, "Happy Halloween, thanks for having me. See you next year."
I have no idea who he is, the goblin/zombie with the fabulous makeup job, or his name, where he is from, or anything about him. I just hope he keeps coming back for the next couple years.
Next year, the bash is back, not letting the Halloween Heartache haunt me for a year. Get ready cause my kids are going to grow up and be in a hurry to get there, but I know the real secret they haven't figured out, adulthood sucks. Halloween only sucks if you let it.
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