Dear Betty,

Deb's grandkids:  3 Little Pigs

Last night was another Halloween; the sixth one since you left us. In the afternoon Don put out a few of our decorations while I worked on a window painting. Actually, rather than put a design directly on the window, I painted with acrylics onto a piece of plastic that we later taped to the window. Pretty ingenious, don’t you think? I know Vern would appreciate the idea. After the holiday I can roll it up and save it for another year; no mess, no fuss! We didn’t carve pumpkins this year, though. I know you would be disappointed if you were here, but it’s hard to find motivation for that now that our kids are grown. I always loved the results and the creativity, but hated the mess and effort.

Halloween was always more your holiday than mine. Remember in Fossil how you used to play a record of haunting sounds and dress as a witch to meet the kids at the door? As we sat at dinner last night, waiting for the first of over 60 trick-or-treaters we were to have this year, my mind went back to the first Hallowed Eve that you lived with us. The encroaching Alzheimers may have confused your thinking by then, but you were still you. The disease had not yet robbed you of the instincts that were based on long-term memories, making you who you were.

I’m not sure you could have told us that it was Halloween, but your hands had not forgotten; they still knew how to scoop out the inside of a pumpkin with very little prompting. I had fixed a simple, early dinner, but the sight of the first little goblin at the door destroyed all hopes of getting you to eat. As soon as you saw that little face, you were at the door, smiling and cooing at how cute he or she was. Don rushed over with the bowl of candy and helped you give one to the child, then steered you back to the table. During the next 15 minutes, you popped up more than a jack-in-the-box, so we finally gave up and Don placed a chair next to the front door for you to sit in between trick-or-treaters. It was a toss up who would get to the children first, you or Meggie, who was dressed up in her SuperMeg cape. Ironically, neither of you was interested in giving out the candy, just in greeting and fawning over the expectant visitors.

Yes, Halloween was definitely your holiday and our memories of your thorough enjoyment of it will always be with us. Thank you for reminding us how to find the joy in life; in the mundane repetitions that we often take very much for granted. As always, we miss you and your effervescent sense of fun and wonder, but we continue to keep you with us in spirit because you touched us deeply.

Love,

Your Family