When Did You First Fall In Love With Halloween?

 

When did you first fall in love with Halloween? For me, it was when I was quite young. My grandmother spent $2 on a paper fold-out centerpiece of a haunted house( an exorbitant amount in those days) when I was in second grade. 58 years later, I still have it. It's missing the little picket fence that attached to the front, but over the years I have carefully preserved it and packed it away.



Halloween is my childhood. It's also the holiest day in my personal calendar. I was seven years old when I hung my first Halloween decorations, and since that time I've had a special affinity for the holiday.

Autumn is my favorite time of the year : the colors of changing leaves, cool, crisp mornings, darker nights and the silence that reflects the echo of train whistles and nocturnal animals vocalizations and movements. And the Beloved Dead...

I have always known there was another dimension other than the one I've currently inhabiting. I didn't know what to call it or how to describe it, but I instinctively knew it existed. And I have never been afraid of the Dead. Even as a child I knew that Death was a transition, like stepping through Alice's looking glass. I knew there were spirits that were mischievous- some were down right evil- but the majority of those who have made the transition through the veil mean the living no harm. I still hold with that belief.

I love the folklore, the stories, the myths and the legends that come out of Halloween's past. The history of the holiday, though often not apparent, has formulated our current celebration. I like the idea of giving out treats because in it's own transformed way preserves the tradition of ' souling' ( children going house to house asking for a specially baked cake in exchange for prayers for the departed of the household). I like seeing the costumes, reminiscent of the living dressing up to fool the malevolent dead so no harm came to them). I give to everyone because it's a small way to spread joy and community...and yes, I even give to the kids traditionally too old to be out trick or treating, because whether or not they know it, they've chosen to retain a bit of their childhood when they could be out doing other more destructive things. It's not really about the candy. Maybe they don't know it, but it's something more, something intangible they don't yet understand.

So, a few friends and  I stand on the corner of the main street in our little town and hand out treats as the Trick or Treaters run by, barely containing their excitement of dressing up and shapeshifting into the persona of imaginary beings ( we don't want the possibility of a liability issue with the apartment complex, so we move off the property.) Their excitement is contagious, and at the same time, a bit of child-like wonder rubs off on us. I dress up, too! As dour, serious adults, we need this recharging  of our psyches at least once a year. Later we normally retire for our own gathering to partake of coffee and cake in someone's apartment, for reminiscing about past Halloweens, and those who are no longer with us. It's a bittersweet moment among the evening's gaiety.

Afterward, I retire to my own sacred space to spent time with my own beloved dead. The ritual begins formally, but becomes a time of joyful remembrance and tears, and I am at once grateful that my spiritual tradition allows me to spend time with those who have gone before. I spend time honoring my ancestors, even those I didn't gravitate to when they were alive, even those who abused and traumatized me, because I believe they deserve recognition for their contribution to who I am, and they deserve their due. There are photos of ancestors I never met, who died long before I was born. I don't even know their names. They were relatives of my grandparents and great grandparents, but they are my ancestors just the same. I confess that I spend more time with my own friends and acquaintances who have crossed The Veil. The list grows longer each year as more people pass on. The first few years I'm a bit sad, actually. This year, Sabrina Underwood Hodges-Sabrina the Ink Witch- is among the gathering. Her sudden death is something I never fathomed happening so soon. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, and neither was she. But the human body is fragile, and we're all subject to failure of it's mortality. But ... my heart and head undeniably know we never truly leave this plain, even if we only return for one night...this night, the eve before All Hallows.

My human companions aren't the only spirits invited to visit: I welcome my animal companions, from those of my childhood to the most recent, to spend time with me. I place the ashes of the latest, Kitty Boo, on my ancestor altar, and photos and mementos of others. They were truly my companions ( I no longer refer to animal companions as 'familiars', even those who participated in ritual with me, because  as Uncle Birch pointed out earlier this year, that's the name those who prosecuted witches called them.
( I understand the propensity to want to continue the cultural reference, and if you wish to do so, that is your choice, just as it is my choice to stop doing so.With me it's just a personal fine point, so, no judgement;  I don't have a problem with incorporating changes as our Craft evolves.)

So, as I dust off my pointy hat, I wish you prosperity and peace and a bountiful harvest of whatever you need. Happy Halloween, and a Blessed Samhain!