I am looking at the remnants of a pre-Halloween weekend well lived. There are the obvious markers of temporary tattoos on all four of our bodies, a very tiny toddler sized purple (Joker) suit ready to be hung after getting washed of its green hair gel and white makeup, black and red cheerleading pom-poms, and random strands of plastic hair colored in pink and blue.
I love this time of year.
As I mentioned in my last letter, this time of year offers two major things for me aside from the obvious re: any reason to shop Halloween decor and sales at any store ever.
There is the playfulness that comes with excitedly participating in the Halloween season for the kids and there is also the healing of my own mother-wound through providing things for our kids and for myself (and even Anaya) that I/we didn’t receive for various reasons.
My mother was born on October 31st, 1970. When your mother births you at 17 and her birthday is on Halloween, it will be forever ingrained in you that Halloween is the holiday of the year. While my mother was unable to give me a lot of what I needed as a child, she did pass down her affinity for the holiday and birthdays alike. I am 35 years old and I still very much love both my birthday and Halloween and I like to think it’s because of her. At an age that was wildly inappropriate but, again, we do what we can with what we have, I was introduced to all things occult and horror via films, her impressive Stephen King collection that were some of the first “chapter books” I ever read, and scary stories told to one another by campfires, under forts in beds, and cautionary tales regarding more practical albeit insidious offerings about why we don’t talk to strangers. She also instilled in me a love of astrology, taught me about the moon and its cycles, how to properly use herbs for various ailments and remedies, and when there was little to believe in, taught me to believe in nature and in magic. I keep books around the house such as Moon Bath, Daily Magic (highly recommend for both new and seasoned witches), and a book for Scarlett to visit on occasion now but will continue to serve as a reference for her for years to come called How to be a Moonflower. I am often sad at the time lost with my own kids, how it feels like there’s never enough time, and that is a another story for another day, but for now I will teach them the silliness that is celebrating Halloween as a commercial holiday of candy and socializing, the ways in which we honor the dead and not just our loved ones, how kitchen magic and green/garden magic are just as, if not the most, important kinds, and how to celebrate their Grandma Jess on her favorite day of the year and her birthday.
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