This week we asked you to take us back to a memorable Halloween costume, to show it to us and draw us into your emotions and memories in 400 words
Halloween was not a special holiday at our house. More of an excuse to stay out past dark, because you could do that in the 60's without fear. And the candy of course, it was all about the candy.
Our costumes were not memorable, store bought in a hurry the day before. Plastic, face covering masks with a tiny mouth slit to suck air through, and eye holes that may be where your own eyes were. Just the act of walking caused a build up of sweat. That, with the humidity of breathing, made them almost unbearable.
The flimsy, I'm sure not fire-proof, costumes didn't always last the night. The seam stitching gave out at the least tug of arm or leg
We were five kids, but I don't think more than three of us at a time were of an age to go trick-or-treat together. By the time my sisters were old enough, I was staying home passing out the candy.
That has always been my favorite part over the years. Greeting little and not so little kids and drop candy bars in bags or pails or pillow cases. Even when my daughter was growing up, I'd rather stay home and hand out goodies. Her step-sister took her a couple times. Most often she was at her grandparents' house. Grandma made sure she got plenty of treats.
My husband and I have moved back to that house. It sits back a long driveway from a busy street. The neighborhood behind it is separated by a half acre field. As long as I can remember it's been the scary house in the neighborhood. Especially on Halloween night. Just because it's big and old. And for years, the only light was from my Mother's bedroom, at the front, facing the busy street. All other windows were dark.
The house is alive with light now.
Yet.
There are no little pirates or princesses at the door.
I buy the candy every year.
Just in case.
.
I like all of this, but this is my favorite:
ReplyDeleteThe house is alive with light now.
Yet.
There are no little pirates or princesses at the door.
I buy the candy every year.
Just in case.
The hopeful, wistful words are so simple yet say so much.
For the record, I love the handing out of candy, too. We live on a main street, so we go to my parents, partly because it's more fun for the kids to trick or treat, but partly because they GET more trick or treaters, and I love to see the kids.
I just realized that Angela posted almost exactly what I was going to say. I didn't know that she was psychic...
ReplyDeleteI like to hand out the candy, too, and it makes me sad when we don't get a crowd!
Lovely! I too have vivid memories of the "plastic, face covering masks with a tiny mouth slit to suck air through, and eye holes that may be where your own eyes were."
ReplyDeleteThe smell of plastic always seems like Halloween to me! :)
I also love to hand out candy, and to see the excitement on the little kids' faces. We get a good amount of kids, but not so much where I grew up. I can definitely sense your melancholy and I totally get it.
ReplyDeleteAltho, that means all the candy is for you!
LIke the others, I adore those last lines. We don't get very many trick or treaters either, so I so get you.
ReplyDeleteYou know what else I loved? The sensory description of those hot masks. You really made me feel it. It was conjured quite well.
Oh, remember the smell of those hideous masks?!?! Sweat, plastic and at least a little saliva from when we couldn't resist the temptation of sticking our tongues out the tiny bit we could through those ridiculous mouth slits! And the old men who insisted on chatting with you before giving you candy even though the mask muffled your speech and the sound! lol
ReplyDeleteThis was a fun read. Hope you get some trick-or-treaters this year!
I love where you took this, past the surface of a remembered costume and into the now and the wistful connection to your grandmother. This is good stuff!
ReplyDelete