On the radio this morning, of course the talk was of Halloween and scary things. All I could think of after a lady called in explaining a time she was so scared of a man in a mask when she was nine years old, was the when we celebrated Halloween in Fairview, MT with our best friends named Daryl, Kathy, Kimberly, and Lane (at least I think Lane was born by then).
Halloween must have been a Friday that year because there would have been no school skipping for such a rendezvous when all parties involved were teachers or principals or farmers.
Also that year I was six or seven because I was in the awful stages of growing out a very short style haircut which I insisted on getting. I was a princess with a garage sale purple dress which was so very beautiful to my young eyes and a tinfoil crown. Ummmm, yes. A fancy crown made from tinfoil. I loved it and felt it was so special. My mom had a way of doing that kind of thing.
I can't quite remember what Travis and Kimberly's costumes were, vampire maybe for him? There's a really fantastic picture of the three of us standing on their house's red stained deck but I don't have it right here so work with me.
Daryl was a character. Well, he still is. He has entire persona he can change into which involve different gaits to his walk and the flipping up of cap bills. He can stay in that character a long time and my dad joins in on the gong show which made, and continues to make, much entertainment. And Daryl called me Butser and Dad-o called me Sep-I. Yep there's that too. Kathy was basically my mom and vice versa for Kimberly with Momma Debi. Those two have the same vibe all around. Encouraging creative messy play? Yep. Making peach pies on August days while canning something? Yep. Keeping too many momentos from everything? Yep. Making the every day feel special? Yep.
In other words, they were family. They are family.
Well on that Halloween at their house in Fairview, Daryl played a trick. I mean of course he played a trick. You know those fake people put in their yards? Like a stuffed scarecrow or maybe a stuffed witch or something of that nature. Well, Daryl dressed himself in coveralls and added padding. And he put on a mask and a stocking cap and gloves and he sat on a lawn chair on their deck with his leg crossed looking real fake like. Then he didn't move a muscle. For a long time. So the trick or treaters would assume he was of the fake variety discussed earlier. Then when those poor little dressed up goblins and ghouls were just about to knock on the door, Daryl would say something and move around a bit. And scare the you know what out of them.
It's a memory which I cherish.
The memory of Halloween in Fairview, MT as a princess with a tinfoil crown and a garage sale purple dress with my very best friend in the whole wide world. The greatness of that memory has nothing to do with our costumes or perfectly made detailed plans, it has everything to do with the fun created by our parents. It has everything to do with them letting go and being ridiculous right along with us.
I need these reminders sometimes. That crowns don't need to be perfect, they can be made of tinfoil.
Kimberly and I live far far away from each other now and she lives a busy life with her two precious girls and her husband so we don't catch up often anymore. But I know she's there and I'm hoping she knows I am here. At the drop of a hat. We are those friends. The ones who can go months without a word and then see each other and it's right to the big talk. The big talk where we can say things we probably would never say to anyone else. We are those friends.
She was here this summer and we met on a Saturday morning for coffee which turned into hours of talk. It was so filling, to be across from the girl who has known me through it all. Through being four and five and six and nineteen and twenty and thirty. She has been there, a constant. And I love her for it. Besides, there's no one that can lip sing to "Oh Mickey!" and say the Pledge of Allegiance incorrectly and put on Santa Shop plays like her and I.
It's funny how hearing something on the radio on your way to work can spur a memory in your mind and make you think about these things. The things of Halloweens and years past. Here's to hoping each and every one of your Halloween nights was for the books.
5 comments:
What a great memory; one I cherish as well! I remember carving pumpkins at the kitchen table with both our dads that weekend, too. I know my mom has pictures of us looking on intently as Curt and my dad carved to our specifications.
What I especially love about this post is the photo of my girls and I at the end. You see, much like you needed to be reminded that having a tin foil crown is just fine, I need to be reminded that sometimes having crazy-messy hair is just fine, too. You and I were too busy playing as kids to worry about combing our hair (unless Debi was going to French braid it). So after you and I had been out all morning drinking coffee and catching up, we came back to these two little girls who obviously hadn't combed their hair. You wanted to snap a photo of us and I cringed a little on the inside because their has was crazy. But, I see the picture now and it's beautiful! They were making memories that morning with their grandma and aunts and that's what's important in life. I feel blessed by all the memories you and I made as children and we probably only combed our hair for three of them! ;) Thank you for being a beautiful friend both inside and out!
Yes Kimberly! Pumpkins! And I'm sure neither one of us was bossy at all. ;)
As far as the hair combing...um...yeah...I'm fairly certain we lived most years of our lives with very unkept strands. So I'm very glad I took that picture even with messy hair because the moment is where it's at. Unless you have Debi to french braid! haha
Thank you for writing...
Ahhh, Amy! I almost blubbered as I read this. Wish we could go back in time and savor those moments again. I remember them so well, too. Remember that when it came time for us to leave Carpio, I wasn't even packed up yet. Your dad was there with the grain truck and I still had stuff in the cupboards. I didn't want to leave my friends. Now I know that the miles between us mean nothing - just a little inconvenience. When we get together, it's as if we still live there. Like you said, we start in talking as if we had just seen each other yesterday. Thanks, my other daughter, for sharing your thoughts. "Wilbur" said to tell you he also enjoyed reading your blog and that he dressed up again this Halloween and scared the neighbors!
Kathy! So happy to hear he is still at it. And I love how you said, "It's as if we still live there." Distance is nothing in the eyes of friendship. That we know well.
Anybody for a French braid? Tears to you! Great memories of the past and many more to make.
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