Every child I know has a certain affinity towards the word Halloween. For most, the pleasant association was clear- Halloween was dressing up, knocking on doors around the neighborhood, and acquiring mountains of candy. My experience growing up with Halloween was different, to say the least.
There was one time I dressed up for Halloween as a four year old preschooler. I have no recollection of the bunny onsie I wore but the snapshot was stuck on the fridge as proof of having celebrated the holiday before, even if it was just once.
At the time I entered elementary school, the Christian church had successfully indoctrinated my parents with the belief that Halloween equated to celebrating the devil and so every practice of Halloween was eliminated in the household. When Halloween rolled around each year, the homeroom teachers would eagerly pass out candy to the little witches, frogs, pumpkins, flowers, jedi’s and just about everyone who had dressed up for the occasion, which was quite literally everyone except me.
When the day had passed and I had seen 100+ costumes, I would go home to a huge bag of Hershey’s chocolates and Kit Kats and Twix and Nerds from my mother but to give to the trick or treaters children who would be wandering the streets. Passing out candy was meant to pacify the situation of the prior year in which my parents decided not to pass out candy and were gifted with the massive “treat” of cracked eggshells on the lawn. So each year around this time, I would sit by inside of the door and read and wait for my peers to come around for candy.
A couple years later, the church I was raised in decided that there ought to be a way to make up for all the fun that had their beliefs had stripped the young ones of. The fun came in the form of a “Fall Festival” put on by the church, consisting of bouncy houses in the parking lot, elaborate maze rooms, carnival games, popcorn and cotton candy, and all the fun you could possibly imagine as a six year old. So that was the way it went for the rest of the years of childhood-instead of walking door to door, we’d leave the bucket of candy outside for the trick’o-treaters and attend the fall fest.
It wasn’t a bad deviation from the norm. I remember one particular year, the event creators decided that perhaps, live goldfish would be an amazing prize. I won my first live goldfish at some ring toss event and brought the little guy home in a plastic bag filled with water, ready to introduce him to the real world of a large tank and some friends that we already owned.
I laid him gently into the tank and watched as he floated to the top backwards and assumed he’d be fine tomorrow. He wasn’t. I remember my dad taking him out the next day and we both said a prayer for his short-lived soul. That was Halloween for you!
As we grew out of kid-mentality, it became our turn to create the events for the children at church and we went all out, always. One year, I hosted a sea creature themed game right next to the bath where people normally get baptized. I can’t recall the goal of the game but we had baked some adorable cookie turtles fo the little contestants.
When the age came around where everyone was obsessed with horror films, I can’t say I was ever able to go through that phase. My mom thought PG-13 entailed Parent Guidance until sixteen-plus and the idea of any R-rated films was entirely off the chart. The first horror movie I ever watched was at age 18 and it was Insidious which probably was a fatal choice for developing my interest in the horror genre. To this day, I haven’t found it in me to truly enjoy horror films but perhaps this year I’ll give it another shot.
This is all to say that my experience of Halloween most likely has entirely different connotations than yours, perhaps. But in the same manner, I believe holidays are a method in which we form memories and milestones and reference points to our progression in life. And for that, I cherish the Halloweens that I haven’t experienced but instead, all that I have.