As I sit here listening to my Monster snoring up a storm...I'm thinking about Halloween and the holidays that are right on our doorstep.
Now, I titled this "A Sad Post..." because I'm going to get heavy here in a minute and explain why I have such mixed emotions about Halloween.
Halloween is such a fun time of year...actually,
GodMomma's favourite time of year. Everyone is asking us what we're dressing Owen up as this year, and to be quite honest...he's going to be a baby. I have a little long sleeved
onesie that he'll wear with jeans, that says
Mommy's Little Pumpkin but...we're not dressing him up as anything.
Next year...all bets are off! I'd like to dress him up as a duck (Bonnie
Toggs has a super cute costumer and I'm tempted to buy it now), or perhaps Batman, C's favourite superhero. Either way, he'll be cute as a button and able to walk up to people's houses to knock on the door and say "Trick of treat!"
Here's the heavy part...I hate Halloween, and I think I have a very good reason to. (Turn back now if you can't handle heavy emotion, I'm going to be bawling writing this, so I'm sure you'll shed a few tears too)
My Dad passed away October 29, 2005.
GodMomma, her then-bf, C and I were in Waterloo at his big costume ball. I had made C and my costumes (Barney and Betty Rubble....corny, but super cute) and had just gone across the stage for "best couple" for people to vote for us.
I remember the TV Personality saying my name and asking me to go to the front lobby. My heart fell. I went through the list of options in my head...did our Jeep get broken into? Our apartment?
We all went into the lobby, and saw the police officers standing there. I took one look at them and thought "Dad's at hockey...it's not very well lit out there" and immediately assumed that my Dad had been in a car accident and that we were
about to be taken to the hospital back home.
The officers asked to take us to somewhere more private and started leading us down a hall way to talk behind closed doors.
GodMomma and her bf stayed behind, and I kept asking the officers to stop and tell me what the eff was going on. I remember stopping once we got to a particular hallway by the bathrooms and refusing to continue until they told me what had happened.
I remember screaming when they said the dreaded words that my Dad had had a massive heart attack at the arena, and looking back toward
GodMomma (who's really more of a sister than my best friend) and starting to bawl. I remember C trying to hold me up, and I remember saying "no" over...and over...and over.
I remember talking to my Mom briefly on the phone, and to my brother briefly as well, before listening to my minister say that there was nothing I could do, so to get back to town when I could, but it wasn't important that I get back that night.
I remember riding in a police car with C back to our apartment, and
GodMomma packing a bag while I sat on the floor. I remember sitting on the front step in C's sweatpants and shirt, waiting for her parents to come and pick us up. I remember her Dad giving me the biggest hug I've probably gotten in my entire life, and I remember crying the entire way home, and getting to my parents house where things would never feel the same again.
I hate Halloween. I hate it with a very very large passion and it hurts my heart to think that it's going to impact how I interact with Owen at what should be a really fun time of the year.
I feel so lost, but I can't help but hate Halloween.
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