October Remembrance
October, the month of the year that I am perhaps the most reflective, holds a lot of significance for so many reasons happy and sad. As a child, of course, it was the excitement of falling leaves, jumping in piles, and the anticipation of Halloween and picking out a costume. The crisp air and the colors lured me outdoors. I have one distinct memory of being in the small backyard of my childhood home (this is before I ever knew the magic of living in the country) dressed in jeans, a white turtle neck, and a beautiful rose-colored vest that my mom had bought for me. I sat on the back steps of the house alone just breathing and watching the leaves fall to the ground. The anticipation of trick-or-treating with siblings, cousins, and friends in our one-square-mile town had my imagination buzzing. Wondering about my big sister’s birthday party and all her cool friends filled me with excitement. I thought she was so lucky to have a birthday at such a beautiful and magical time of year.
Growing up has a way of altering how we view life. My excitement over Halloween faded but not my love of the weather and leaves. Instead of anticipating magic and candy, I started to look forward to perfect horseback riding weather. October became my favorite time to take long meandering rides through the woods and fields. I only realize now that I probably struck some concern in my mother as I disappeared for hours on end (long before I ever owned a cell phone), but slowly that magic and wonderment I felt started to disappear, and then one day I was an adult rushing to work and trying to carve out a place for myself in this big world. It was on one such day in this month during my 28th year that all the happiness was sucked out of October.
It was a Tuesday and I was leaving the office where I had been working as an environmental scientist for only two weeks. It had been another beautiful fall day and I promised my mother the night before that I would come over straight away to help her get a load of hay for the horses. I had tried calling earlier in the day but got no answer. I figured she was enjoying the last of the perfect days either in her garden or brushing the horses. However, as five o’clock approached I started getting that niggling feeling that something was wrong. The 15-minute drive to her house felt like an eternity. When I pulled into the driveway I noticed the horses were locked in their stalls and none of her 3 dogs were running to greet me. This was not the norm. I let myself into a darkened house and could smell burning coffee. A full pot sat on the counter. I called for her and received no answer. I ran up the stairs to the bedroom and found her on her bed. She was still in her pajamas and as I approached I knew that she was gone. The mix of shock and disbelief had my adrenaline pumping. I ran, or rather fell, down the stairs to get the phone and dialed 911. The calm voice on the other end asked me to check for a pulse and administer CPR. As I checked for mom’s pulse my own was pounding in my head and I knew no amount of CPR was going to put life back into her body. Then I was faced with the task of calling all my siblings and father. I can’t even fully remember what transpired.
Life can change dramatically when someone you love dies suddenly. There is no preparation for such an event and there is no way to expect how life will unfold after it happens. You just have to figure things out and try your best to keep on going. That night as my dad held my mother’s hand and said goodbye to his wife of over 40 years and my siblings cried or got angry, I changed out of my office clothes and into my mom’s work clothes and headed out to the barn (she would not have wanted her horses going hungry or standing in dirty stalls). There alone in the barn I fed, I mucked, I wept, and I hugged my old gray gelding hoping he might know what to do next.
I wish I could say that my mother’s passing was the only event that marred October’s fine image for me but it isn’t. The following October our family lost another family member, my cousin, far too young and far too soon. This time I was not the bearer of bad news but the recipient. Never again will I receive a late-night phone call without feeling a sense of panic. But this is not my story to tell for there are others whose lives have been far more affected. I hope they know that they are not alone in the pain they feel.
“Life is for the living. Death is for the dead. Let life be like music. And death a note unsaid.”
– Langston Hughes
No truer words have ever been spoken. I continued to live my life. I enjoyed developing a different relationship with my Dad as he continued to spend his weekends at the farm (for which I became responsible). I even tried to keep Sunday macaroni going (minus the huge pot of homemade sauce). Some of my siblings made major life changes by moving to Florida. I must say that that felt like a major loss to me as well. But perhaps the best expression of living came 2 years after my mom’s death and that was the birth of my son in October 2005. His arrival brought the magic back to October. Now we had a reason to celebrate. I made his first birthday as big as possible. Every family member from siblings to my last great aunt was invited to the farm to enjoy the perfect fall weather, reminisce, and watch him blow out the candles on his birthday cake. Perhaps my favorite memory of that day is my dad kneeling in front of the high chair feeding my son his first bite of cake.
Parenthood does something to you. It brings back the excitement we lost when we became adults. October is once again my favorite month. I’m almost giddy when it arrives. I still marvel at the changing leaves as I watch them float to the ground. I love seeing my youngest eager to pick out a costume and decorate the house with my tiny supply of Halloween decorations. I fill the calendar with weekend events like going to corn mazes and trunk-or-treats. I wait until the perfect time to carve the pumpkins and laugh at the faces Hannah makes as she sticks her hand in to scoop out the pumpkin guts. I place the jack o’lanterns on the porch and pray the goats won’t eat their faces off again. Then the grand finale – Halloween!
Not even this day can escape my wondering mind as it often gets the better of me. I am never satisfied with the status quo. My need to know the history behind traditions is borderline compulsive. So years ago I set out to understand Halloween. And here is just a tiny sampling of what I learned on the topic (please feel free to google away when you’re done reading). The Christians have All Hallows’ Eve. The Celts celebrate Samhain. And Dia de Los Muertos is celebrated in Mexico. All three celebrations start on October 31 with Samhain ending on November 1 and the others ending on November 2. Although the three holidays originated in different parts of the world and for different reasons I will say they all share one very important aspect and that is the celebration of the dead. All Hallows’ Eve is the first day of the liturgical celebration of Hallowmas which also includes All Saints’ Day and All Soul’s Day. These days are set aside to remember the saints, martyrs, and faithful departed Christians. Samhain signifies the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. The Celts believe that as they usher in the dark half of the year the barriers between the physical and spirit worlds break down thus allowing more interactions between humans and inhabitants of the Otherworld. During Samhain feasts, people may set a place at the table for the souls of dead kin. Dia de Los Muertos is rooted in the Aztec tradition of honoring the dead. Today people of Mexican heritage celebrate by creating altars to remember family and friends who have died. What beautiful traditions! And yes all three do include dressing up in costumes but not the latest characters from Disney or Marvel. This day is so much more than the latest costumes and bags of candy. It isn’t merely a child’s holiday. It is a time for everyone to celebrate with the loved ones we have and remember all the loved ones we have lost.
October, the month so full of moments of happiness and joy and heartache and despair, has come to an end. On this month’s final day, I will celebrate with jack o’ lanterns blazing as I pay my respects to the deceased. Before I help my daughter into her witch’s robe and set out to neighbors’ homes to trick or treat I will sit down to dinner with my family at my kitchen table; the very same kitchen table at which I spent my childhood eating and celebrating. I will set an extra place for mom and dad, my sister, my cousin, and any other spectral family member who might care to join us (if they’re not too busy visiting others) and I will fondly remember the days when all three leaves had to be put into the table to accommodate our big happy family.
Thumbnail Photo by Michelle Fox
