First Love

My husband has been away at work all weekend.  We’re used to his crazy hours, but the house always seems unusually quiet when he’s gone for days at a time.  And when I find myself with more quiet time than usual, my mind begins to wander…. like it’s doing tonight.

Now that another Halloween is in the history books, I find myself thinking about why I love this holiday so much.  The usual answers come quickly to mind:  pumpkins – I like pumpkins – and pumpkin picking.  I like wearing black and orange polka-dot tights without being questioned and I like wearing ghost earrings.  I like dressing my kids up – and the dog – I like dressing the dog up too and, of course, there’s the fact that my last name is Trick.  That alone requires my love of this particular holiday.  And I suppose I love Halloween because it seems to be the one and only stress-free, let-the-good-times-roll, happy holiday on the calendar.  But there’s something else.

With time alone to think, I find myself digging deeper into the depths of my love of Halloween.  This holiday always fills me with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia;  a warm, sentimental glow, a surprising need to revisit my affection for my first love.  And, with my husband gone all weekend, it’s been easy to get carried away – revisiting that affection over and over again.  I’m beginning to feel a tiny bit guilty….but it makes me soooo happy.

Oh chocolate, you will always be my first love.

 

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