Halloween is one of my favorite times of the year.  The actual theme is somewhat macabre, but it is the memories associated with this event that I hold so dear.

 

When I was very young, my older sister transformed me into a werewolf.  I remember very well the makeup, the cape, and the black plastic finger nails she put on me.  That effort on her part was so meaningful to me, and the trick-or-treating that I did while thus transformed was splendid.  This is the first Halloween memory I have.

 

A couple of years later, I had croup on Halloween and couldn’t go trick-or-treating.  That was a big loss to this 6-year-old.  That was the only Halloween I missed as a child.

 

Many years later, when my first child was about 1.5 years old, I took her trick-or-treating.  She was dressed as Raggedy Ann, and I took her through the neighborhood in her stroller.  In every year since, I have taken at least one of my children trick-or-treating through our neighborhood ... until this year.  Our youngest child expressed a strong desire to go with just his friends and not have Dad with him.  It was hard to let go of this tradition, and yet I could understand his desire; I’m not “cool” to him right now, but I hope that someday in the not-too-distant future, I’ll be “cool” again — though that will probably be after he has graduated from trick-or-treating.

 

With all of these Halloweens, there has been a strong association to carved pumpkins.  I remember carving some very basic faces, very geometric and symmetrical, and feeling almost proud of my creations until I would walk over to neighbors’ homes and see these elaborate and very artistic carvings.  After a couple of years of this, and feeling very much the parallel between pumpkin carving and drawing (where, for years, I had never graduated beyond “stick men”), I finally asked one of the neighbors how they did this.  The answer was startlingly simple: there were kits you could buy at the stores that had stencils and tools.

 

The next year, we had one of these kits of our own, and the results were surprisingly good.  Abruptly, I had graduated beyond the pumpkin-carving equivalent of drawing stick men.  This relatively recent skill has been transferred to a dear friend, who joins us every year right around Halloween for pumpkin carving.  He’s achieved some great success with this new artistic avenue, and enjoys showing his works to his office mates.  The pumpkins are merely the excuse, though, for having a wonderful get-together, sharing a meal, reminiscing, talking about life and philosophy, and strengthening the bonds of friendship.  This tradition of carving pumpkins together with this dear friend has become one of the best and strongest happy associations with Halloween.  Thank you, Bryce, for your enduring friendship!