PE #10 – Halloween and Me

I’ll be writing and posting Personal Essays on the last Tuesday of every month. They will be honest, sometimes vivid explorations of my life.

I’m writing them for two reasons: to help put my experiences in perspective and to purge myself of any residual compost.

Since it is good therapy, you are invited to join me, post your link in comments and I’ll be sure to drop by.

Let it begin:

Outside the air is crisp; and when I was a child there would be piles of burning leaves along the residential streets filling the air with the smell of burning leaves. I love Halloween; is it the scent of smoke or the bonfire? Is it the kids dressed up and on a sugar high? Fireworks? Or maybe it comes down to reliving a wonderful moment in my childhood.

They say the sense of smell is the longest memory trigger we have. I believe it. Every year we go the Halloween bonfire and wood smoke fills the air as the sun sets. It brings with it a sense of anticipation, and I don’t just mean me. There are children of all sizes and ages gravitating to this wonderful celebration.

Somehow no matter if you are the (insert slang for most elite) kid in high school, or the smallest/runtiest kid in kindergarten, or the most crotchety old fart in the land Halloween brings out the best in us. I wonder if putting on a mask even for one night loosens something deep inside us that make us feel better about ourselves. We run around the fire with sparklers in our hands. We gather and gossip waiting for the fireworks.

We keep an eye on our children and the dimming sky. We watch the crew that will let the fireworks fly gather at a safe distance with their torches. Every time one of them inspects a grouping of awaiting rockets we hold our breaths, jumping up and down trying hold back the grins of anticipation. It’s a Grand Forks tradition that I hope never ends. It’s more than Halloween; it’s magic that bring all ages together.

I’ve done this throughout my life and so has Bossman. When he was very young, we’d sit in the car, staying warm, and he’d bounce around the car like a young lunatic, sharing his candy with me. His eyes huge, little forefinger pointing to the flowers of light in the sky. He’d pretend to give a blossom to me as if he could pluck it from the sky. I think of all the memories we gather in a lifetime and I can’t help but sigh with happiness.