Saved from Helloween?

You know my history with Halloween. You know I can't even call it that, since my lifelong experience with it - all five years - has been hell. What? You forgot that? Remind yourself here and here.

I wasn't looking forward to it this year either. I waited in trepidation for the Amazon truck to appear with my stupid costume. I waited with disdain for Mom to bring home a pumpkin, pieces of which she would chuck all over the kitchen during carving, while shouting at me the whole time to stay away.

Last weekend, I casually mentioned these absences to Dad, setting him up to be the one who asks about it, lest my curiosity be mistaken for interest in any of it - especially the being dressed up like a dope part. Dad, the good fellow that he is, was an easy mark.

"So, you didn't buy a pumpkin?" I heard Dad ask Mom the other morning.

"No. I just didn't see any need," she replied, noting that Big Brother wasn't all that interested last year and hadn't asked about it this year.

"And what's Gus's costume going to be?" Dad asked. I cringed waiting for the answer.

"Oh. I actually forgot to get him one," Mom said, with a little note of surprise in her voice. "He's going to daycare on Halloween, though, so I should probably think of something."

Dah! So close! Why did I have to remind her?!

Then a glorious thing happened! Mom got real sick. Oh, come on! Don't start thinking bad thoughts about my joy in her circumstances! It's not like she was dying or anything. By the time she was feeling better, Helloween was upon us.

Mom adapted pretty quickly to my lack of a costume for daycare, but I had the happiest day ever when I got there and found out all the costume days had come earlier in the week!! Saved from being nincompooped up in a costume - even though Mom's thinking-on-the-fly outfit was pretty decent.

Me as a Terrible Towel and only feeling remotely silly this year.

When I returned home to spread this news, Mom was a little bummed out. "Why so glum?" I asked, while I watched her bake cookies for the neighborhood Helloween party that was about to commence. Normally baking makes her happy, but not today.

Mom explained that she was feeling like this might be our last "real" Helloween, and that made her sad. If that meant I never had to dress up again, it made me happy, but I didn't think it was the right time to add that. Mom said Big Brother will go to high school next year, and even though there doesn't seem to be an age limit on trick or treating in our little neighborhood, she knows the end is near.

She also said that, when she plugged an electric jack-o'-lantern in on the porch after work, she felt like she'd totally given up on Helloween. "How lame-o!" she said. I was going to point out that the electric one probably looked a lot better than one she would carve, but again I recognized this was not the time. I think I might be growing wiser.

Mom said, as Big Brother gets older, it will get easier and easier to walk away from annual traditions that started because she and Dad had a little kid. "They may have started like box checks for kids, but after we did them year after year, they became part of our family's fabric," she explained.

Mom said this Helloween was the first one she'd let slip away a little, and the fear of that continuing to happen was what was bumming her out. "What will be next?" she asked no one in particular.

After Big Brother donned a face mask she had made for his costume and headed out to the party, Mom packed up her cookies and got ready to follow him. As she said bye to me and Dad, I felt I should say something to cheer her up.

"Hey, Mom?" I said as she turned to go. " You didn't give up on Helloween. You did Big Brother's costume, put up the decorations, and made special cookies. That doesn't look like quitting to me!"

She leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "Thanks, Gussie. And thanks for listening. Next year will be different. I'll be ready the next time holiday apathy creeps in, and I'll fight back for all of us!" Man, I'm good at this cheering people up thing.

As I watched her walk down the sidewalk, though, I thought - Good job, Gus. Something stupid is coming your way next year in the form of a costume. But then I thought about how happy Mom was just thinking about her chance at a do-over, and I had a change of heart. If looking dopey is part of the family fabric, I'll be in - at least part of the way - and I'll get Big Brother and Dad pumped up about pumpkins and costumes and Halloween cookies. Yes, I said HAlloween. For Mom, I guess I can even give up the E. The things we do for love.

Remembering Halloweens past: