My Dad always knew about Halloween. This is not a trait any kid should take for granted because many fathers don't understand Halloween at all. I know my brothers and I appreciated our Father's unique talents in this regard because right around the first of October we would automatically shift into our best behaviors so as not to interrupt the unearthly workings of our Father's imagination as he set about planning for the Great Night.
How does a Dad acquire this knowledge of demons, witches, ghosts and goblins? I'm convinced it's handed down from his own Father, a special inheritance resulting from years of carving intricate jack-o-lanterns, endless hours of thinking up costumes and countless miles traversed with trick-or-treating kids.
One of my earliest Halloween memories was being cradled in my Father's arms as he took my older brother and his friends trick-or-treating. I swear I can remember the scratchiness of his beard against my cheek and the smell of coffee on his breath as he laughed and admonished the boys not to run too far ahead. I must have been no more than four because once I got into kindergarten, I was allowed to wear a costume and walk holding onto my Father's hand.
As we got older, my Father's Halloween schemes got more elaborate, perhaps because he realized the number of Halloween's we'd be sharing together was dwindling. My father was a stuntman and screenwriter, and one year he "borrowed" the costume from the movie "Creature From The Black Lagoon." At our front door he planted a sign written in blood (okay, red paint) challenging the brave of heart to follow the path of glowing jack-o-lanterns around to the back of the house. All night long adventuresome kids pushed and shoved each other down the trail of eerily grinning faces until they reached our backyard gate. Usually at least one out of the crowd was courageous enough to open the screeching gate and cautiously step into the yard. Sitting in our den behind partially opened blinds, my Father (dressed as The Creature) would blink the desk lamp on and off so that our visitors could catch a scary glimpse of him. Sometimes that was enough to send kids flying in all directions, but for those brave enough to creep forward, The Creature, who had now stepped onto the porch with a huge bowl of candy, were rewarded for their courage.
Then there was the Halloween I came home from school to find our front yard transformed into a cemetery complete with headstones, ghosts floating in the tree branches and a "dead man" hanging from a rope. I'm not sure what my Mother thought of all these antics but she was always a good sport, sending us off with a good hot meal in our tummies and lots of homemade oatmeal cookies awaiting our return.
My brothers also inherited my Dad's Halloween gene, especially my brother Leo who makes his house and yard so scary, I think I'd have nightmares sleeping in his house at night. I'm more of the fun, kid-cute and friendly Halloween type of celebrant. From decorations to parties with apple bobbing, games and, of course, trick-or-treating, Halloween was always a special night when my girls were little. The ghosts and goblins around our house were more fun than really scary.
Now we have a new generation initiated into the spooky fun of Halloween and I am eagerly looking forward to strolling down the street tonight with three of my eight (yes, eight!) grandchildren. Whether dressed as witches or ninjas, sharks or cartoon characters, kids and grown-ups alike will be having a spooky good time. Ah, isn't life grand?
Tonight, when all the festivities are over, I may just take another late night stroll, this time with my own cup of coffee in hand, to share some silent memories with my Dad. You see, the man who always loved this day, left this earthly realm on Halloween. Always one for a dramatic entrance, Dad knew how to make a dramatic exit as well. See you out there, Papo.
