Want To See Something Really Scary?

Yesterday, I called my husband from Costco to ask him, "How much Halloween candy should I get?"  He really wanted to get the big bars this year, a treat for the Trick or Treaters."
Halloween was undoubtedly the biggest holiday of the year when I was growing up.  But it wasn't about the candy.  My brothers would always go through that, take out their favorites, and tell me they we checking for poison.  Yes, I fell for it.   They did throw out anything that had mysteriously opened in the bag.  And any fruit was also tossed for fear of razor-blades.  It was the late sixties, early seventies.  There were a lot of "scares" about Halloween.

Hobo

Back then, we actually had Halloween parties, not Fall Festival's...even at our church.  No one ever seemed offended by our celebration because everyone we knew was there.  It was a night to enjoy being foolish and, at my house, we went all out.  We didn't spend a lot of money on Halloween.  It wasn't about spending (which is good, because we didn't have much).  It was all about getting together as a family, dressing up, and being mischievous.  One Halloween, we emptied out an old cedar chest, dragged it onto the front porch, and filled it with candy (candy was less expensive back then).  My brother and I dressed up to give candy to the kids.  As the little ones came into the yard, my brother led them over to the homemade "casket"...to get their candy.  Some were brave.  Some refused to come closer.  As they approached, I slowly rose from the cedar chest and scared them.  I was only twelve or thirteen but, I was the consummate vampire.  It was very scary.  My best memories of childhood, of family, are from Halloween.
When I left home, my brother continued the tradition in our hometown.  His house is the favorite place in the neighborhood to trick or treat.  He works all year to collect just the right decorations for the big night.  Kids come from all over when they are young and, when they grow up, they come back to assist him in setting up.

Gypsy

I miss the excitement of Halloween.  I miss how it made me feel.
Did I mention I introduced my husband to my parents on Halloween night?  We showed up at their door dressed as "his and hers" werewolves.  I thought it appropriate for a family such as mine and, being the good sport he is, my Sweetie went along with it.
As I was shopping for the candy yesterday, I was somehow saddened.  I know I'm all grown up, but I couldn't help but wish we had a party to attend on my favorite night of the year.  My friends, even my family, they don't really get how much Halloween means to me.  I would, without hesitation, sacrifice every other holiday during the year, to have a memorable Halloween.
Most don't understand, but it makes me think of the best of my childhood.  It makes me think of home.  Planning our costumes, or just the act of decorating for Halloween just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.
This morning, I went into the dining room, lay out all the treats, and smiled  At least my favorite isn't among the decadent goodies.  No Twizzlers.  There will be no temptation to cheat on my healthy eating regime.  Still, I'll dress up to hand out the candy.  Maybe I'll even turn on some scary "holiday" background music.  This year, we'll take it easy but, next year, I want to be celebrate someplace amazing like in Salem, Massachusetts, or at least have a huge party with friends and neighbors.  I want to dress up, have fun, be mischievous, and well...on that one night...I want to be bad.  I want Twizzlers!

Better go, time to hit the treadmill.  After that, I have to dig around in the garage, find stuff to decorate the house.  Now, where did we put those tombstones?