EssayHalloween

Halloween

When I was a child my mother frequently dressed my younger sister and I as gypsies for Halloween. I liked it. It was fun to wear makeup and flowery dresses, and it was, undoubtedly, an easy costume for my mom, since wrapping our heads in scarves and throwing a piece of material onto our shoulders as a shawl made the holiday adaptable and cheaper. But now I wonder—why a gypsy? Was it a determinant of my personality? Or had she tuned in to some inner calling that lay dormant within the souls of my sister and I?

From what I know of gypsies, they are first and foremost wanderers. Did I wander as a child? No. I was a by-the-book kind of kid. I followed rules. I did the right thing. I was good. But in my heart and in my mind, I did wander—in dreams, in books, and in my urge to write. Daily life was often boring, but also anxiety-ridden. I escaped to make-believe lands to appease my earthly suffering. While I have never spoken to my sister of this, I will venture to say that she has been plagued by a wandering tendency during her life as well, however hers appears to have manifested directly into this world. She has college degrees as diverse as geology and nursing, has worked as a ski instructor, and as a park ranger (carrying a gun, no less) in Colorado and California. Currently she works as a nurse in New Mexico. In her spare time she kayaks on local rivers and disappears yearly into the Grand Canyon. She has never married. So it seems that both my sister and I had—and still have—strong tendencies to voyage, and our Halloween costumes reflected this.

For my children, choosing costumes has always been about ease. In their younger days, they were frequently Power Rangers. They liked the television shows. The Rangers were everyday teenagers with superpowers, an appealing prospect for any young child facing the uncertainties of daily life. Several years ago our youngest daughter even named a new puppy Power Ranger, whom we now simply call Ranger. So perhaps my children will grow to be warriors, but I hope this translates into a fight for a life well-lived, to the struggle to see their dreams brought to fruition.

What this Halloween will bring I’m still not certain. My children are old enough to choose their own costumes. As it has been in the past, warmth is always a necessity in these chilly northeastern fall nights. The younger son usually opts out of the holiday altogether. At thirteen he much prefers computer time to the work spent gathering candy but I have no doubt he’ll acquire sweets from his siblings through wit, subterfuge, or just plain harassment. The older son will opt for a scary costume, something guaranteed to frighten his sisters. The girls want to be a genie and a zookeeper. Magic and animals—a potent subject for another day.

My husband and I will bundle up and enjoy our last Halloween in Pennsylvania before a big move to Arizona next year. Perhaps a journey a gypsy might make? Hmmm, yes. I guess the wanderer lives yet.