There is something I’ve always loved about Halloween. As a child I usually had a mask, no costume, and loved going around the neighborhood with my brothers and sisters and getting loads of candy. As a mom, Halloween marks the start of the holiday season for me. Every year I get dressed up with my kids for an evening of fun. This year my eldest wants to spend the evening with her friends, a sad transition for me as she begins to assert her own independence. I tell folks I work hard all year just to make the magic happen for my family from Halloween up until New Years Day.
In June of this year, I lost my mom. Perhaps “lost” is not a good word. It implies that I misplaced her or forgot her somewhere. My mother died at 79 years of age, after a long battle with heart disease. She was my anchor, my counselor and my friend. I feel adrift, broken and overwhelmed by sadness.
I have only a few pictures with my mom – I was usually the one behind the camera. In the picture above, she is 52 and I’m 21. I had just finished college and Mom took us on vacation to her birthplace, Carriacou, Grenada. Mom rented a beach front cottage in town for us. I remember having friends come over and just talking and laughing with her and telling us how lucky we were to have such a cool Mom. Mom always had my back and although she only had a primary school education, she pushed me to always do my best. Mom had a deep faith in God, a serious work ethic and a raunchy sense of humor. She loved to “pound torre” (what West Indians refer to as gossip), gamble at casinos and dance. She wasn’t a perfect mother but she was good enough for me.
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