When I lost my original blog posts, I thought this little piece of my history was gone forever. I was heartbroken. Along with the post, all the pictures had disappeared, too. So you can imagine how happy I was to discover that I could recover the words from this October 2015 post!

Without the original photos, it felt a little different, and I decided it was the perfect opportunity to give the post a fresh start. I wanted to rewrite it, revisit those sweet childhood memories, and, in a small way, honor the years I spent blogging and sharing pieces of my life with you. After all, those stories are part of my history, and I don’t want to lose them.

I originally posted when my blog was called Queen Jarrell. I began blogging to document my life during my second marriage. Gosh! That seems so long ago!

Remembering Halloween, originally from my blog, Queen Jarrell, has been refreshed but still holds the memories that made it special to me in the first place.

Remembering Halloween

Fall has always held a special place in my heart. Maybe it’s the cooler weather, the changing leaves, or the excuse to pull out my favorite sweaters. But more than anything, fall brings back memories of Halloweens past.

My earliest Halloween memory is one I can still picture so clearly. I’m wrapped in a sheet that has probably seen better days, peeking through a large hole cut out for my eyes. I’m scrambling out of the backseat of our old Pontiac, clutching a paper grocery sack nearly as big as I am. I can hardly wait to run up to a stranger’s front door and shout, “Trick-or-treat!” as they drop candy into my bag.

I can still remember the excitement. There was just something magical about Halloween when you were a little girl. Honestly, I can close my eyes and almost be right back there.

Growing up, we didn’t have many extras. My parents worked hard to provide for our family, and fancy Halloween costumes weren’t in the budget. My sister and I usually went as ghosts or witches. A ghost required little more than an old sheet, while a witch needed a store-bought hat, a black trash bag, and a little imagination.

By the end of the evening, those witch hats were usually crumpled beyond recognition, and the trash bags weren’t exactly high fashion. But my mother knew how to work a little magic with makeup. A bit of green eyeshadow to tint our faces, and lipstick, and we were transformed! Even back then, wearing makeup felt awfully exciting.

Halloween wasn’t just an evening event back then. It was practically a holiday in itself, beginning the minute we walked into school. Some children even wore their costumes to class. Looking back, I can only imagine what our teachers went through!

We didn’t call them fall parties, either. They were full-fledged Halloween parties, complete with homemade cupcakes decorated for the occasion, gory costumes, and classrooms transformed into little haunted houses. Jack-o’-lanterns and skeletons hung from the walls, and we sang silly witch songs about stirring bubbling brews in big black cauldrons. We embraced every bit of the Halloween spirit, and the more festive and spooky, the better! We played games, ate treats, and had plenty of excitement. Of course, someone always got a little too carried away with the goodies and ended up feeling sick.

Those few hours between school and trick-or-treating seemed to last forever. We decorated paper grocery bags with crayons and markers on the kitchen floor, which was a treat in itself. When we finished, Mom rolled the tops down or made handles so our little hands could hold them more easily. We didn’t need fancy trick-or-treat bags. We made do with what we had.

Since the time change came earlier back then, darkness arrived pretty quickly. I was so excited to get out the door that I could barely eat dinner. And that was saying something, because my favorite meal was Mom’s homemade macaroni-and-cheese casserole. We’re talking the real deal, not macaroni and cheese out of a box! As soon as Daddy arrived home from work, we were ready to dash out of the door. I doubt he even had time to eat.

Finally, we loaded into the car, clutching the backs of the front seats. Back then, seat belts weren’t even a thought! Because we didn’t live in a subdivision, trick-or-treating meant driving from house to house along a planned route. No neat rows of houses just a few steps apart, with porch lights guiding the way… every stop took time, and our candy collection grew a little more slowly.

We were thrilled when we finally had enough candy to cover the bottom of our enormous grocery sacks. We certainly weren’t filling pillowcases or hauling home buckets overflowing with treats. Looking back, we were so happy with so little. I wonder how many children today actually eat all the candy they collect!

Once we got home, tired but happy, Daddy always insisted on checking our candy. I thought he was just making sure everything was safe. As an adult, I have a sneaking suspicion that the inspection had a little more to do with sampling all his favorite pieces. Candy was a special treat in our house, and I’m pretty sure Daddy knew exactly what he was looking for!

One Halloween, though, nearly broke my little heart.

I woke up with a stomach virus on Halloween morning. I was devastated. How could this happen? Of all the days in the year, why Halloween? I couldn’t imagine missing out on trick-or-treating. To me, the entire holiday was ruined.

But my parents came to the rescue. A couple of days later, they arranged a special Halloween just for me, taking me along our usual route and stopping at the houses where people had been expecting us. I was absolutely amazed! Halloween hadn’t been ruined after all! One of my favorite memories was visiting my teacher at her door. I was so excited to see her and show off my costume. I had no idea that my parents had planned it all ahead of time, making sure everyone was ready for my special trick-or-treating adventure. As a little girl, I was simply thrilled to have my Halloween after all. Looking back now, I realize just how thoughtful and loving that gesture was. My parents went out of their way to turn what felt like a terrible disappointment into a memory I would treasure for years to come. I don’t think I appreciated it nearly enough at the time, but I certainly do now. What a special gift that was!

When I think about why Halloween remains so special to me, it really has very little to do with the costumes or the candy. It’s the memories. It’s my mother helping us get dressed, the excitement of decorating our paper bags, the smell of dinner cooking, and piling into the car with my family. It’s my daddy sneaking candy and my parents finding a way to save Halloween when I thought all was lost.

We didn’t have elaborate costumes or an abundance of treats, but we had traditions. Our parents made ordinary things feel special. And we had fun.

Sometimes I wonder whether children today miss out on some of those simpler experiences as Halloween grows bigger, with elaborate costumes and neighborhoods designed for trick-or-treating. But then I remind myself that every generation has its own traditions. The children collecting candy today will grow up, too, and one day they’ll look back on their own Halloweens with the same fondness I feel for mine.

That’s the beauty of childhood memories. We may not realize we’re making them at the time, but years later, the simplest moments often mean the most.

So, as Halloween rolls around again, I hope you take a moment to enjoy the little things. Whether you’re dressing up the kids, handing out candy, heading out with the grandchildren, or simply reminiscing about Halloweens past, there’s something wonderful about a tradition that brings a little magic into our lives.

Happy Halloween! Make some memories, treasure the old ones, and enjoy every little bit of fall magic.