James Aschbacher loved Halloween. I could say it brought out the kid in him, but the kid in him was always out! He wasn’t into dressing up himself, but he loved to see little trick-or-treaters in costumes.
We would put together a deli tray of salami, cheese, olives and baguette (and champagne, of course!), and graze standing up at the kitchen counter between trips to answer the doorbell.
And as a lifelong monster-movie fan, he loved all the faux-scary stuff that came with the celebration. We made window displays with skeletons, his Universal Monster movie figurines, and my Barbies. (Bride of Frankenstein Barbie; Headless Barbie; Invisible Woman.)
But best of all, he loved carving pumpkins, a ritual shared with friends Jim and Gail Borkowski for years. Of course, normal jack-o-lanterns were never good enough for us. I love the violin motif on Jim B’s tall pumpkin, here. (Look at those “ears!”) And, since the year was 1989, my Art Boy produced “Quake-Head!” He must have employed toothpicks — very carefully — to fasten the two ruptured halves back together at that angle. Always the innovator!
It was all part of the same ritual — act of creation, brief blaze of glory, then return to the Earth to start the cycle anew.
It’s very sad for me to face my second Halloween without him. His enthusiasm was so contagious! Last year I went to my friends’ house for the evening, rather than face the night alone. (Just me and the ghost of my Sweetie, his overwhelming absence occupying the house like The Blob.)
It feels like such a betrayal of James; as my Spirit Guide, he would be so disappointed.
But not only do I not have the benefit of his delight to cheer me on, I am no longer physically able to keep schlepping back and forth to the door to hand out goodies to the kids.
And rattling to the door hunched over my walker might scare even the most stalwart trick-or-treater.
(Although, maybe if I dressed up like Quasimodo . . . )
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