Why I love Halloween

Mrs. Lively had a name that fit her personality. I lived in a small town in Oklahoma that was, at the time, much rougher than I realized. But I was a kid, and all I saw was the beauty of fall. I remember the leaves changing colors... changing colors in early October... not this late October Early November thing that we see now in October. I remember how the lawns filled with orange and red, and I remember how people stuffed those pumpkin-printed trash bags full of them until it looked like the entire town was Halloween town.

That third-grade year is the version of Halloween I remember most fondly. Mrs. Lively’s classroom was filled with decorations, paper bats on the ceiling, pumpkins on the chalkboard, and that strange mixture of crayons and autumn air. We’d sing:

H-A-Double L-O-W-Double E-N… spells Halloween, Halloween… hallooooweeen… it’s gonna be a scream!”

We’d shout “scream!” at the top of our lungs and laugh until our stomachs hurt. That’s when I fell in love with Halloween.

As I got older, the magic changed shape but never left. I remember my first haunted house... it was at the old abandoned hospital in town. My parents worried I’d be too scared, but they let me go, and my dad came along as my sidekick. I remember reaching into bowls of “brains” and “worms,”... my younger self being so disturbed at how REAL it felt. I remember the distant growl of a chainsaw, and the moment I stepped back into the night air my heart pounding, but I had DONE IT. I had made it out alive.

I think Halloween lets us be brave in small ways. It gives us permission to flirt with fear, to test the edges of what we can handle, and to come out laughing on the other side. That was my very first moment flirting with that experience.

Later came horror movies with my mom, the excitement building as October crept closer. I remember the smell of cheap latex and plastic when I got my first real Michael Myers mask... it was the fifty-dollar one from the Halloween Depot... the expensive one. It felt like treasure.

Then there were the nights with my cousins watching scary movies, daring each other to stay awake, and hearing our aunts and uncles tell real ghost stories. Stories tied to the old traditions, to native magic. The world felt unknowable and alive.

Now I spend each October seeing my kids light up at the sight of those first Halloween decorations. The anticipation that builds. I see them light up at the discussions of costumes. In the quiet moments... I often think of Mrs. Lively, the sound of that silly song. Maybe every Halloween since has just been me chasing that feeling again, the one she gave me, where the world felt magic, strange, and completely alive.