“The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family.”
-Thomas Jefferson
Yesterday was my birthday and there’s little doubt that I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.
A Halloween birthday offers one the luxury of remembrance. And I remember many birthdays. As a child my birthdays were often characterized by the costumes I wore and the treats gained. My parents would usually allow friends to gather at our home still in costume. We would sit in a circle on the floor in our capes or sheets or uniforms and inventory our loot. Then, as if grocery sacks full of candy were not enough fuel, my Mother would deliver us ice cream and cake. Oftentimes she would then ratchet up the excitement with some sort of energy releasing game. Silly by today's standards I'm sure, but pin the tail on the donkey was always popular when I was young. Image six or eight boys already buzzing from the excitement of costume, candy, cake, ice cream and the ceaseless running, bouncing and noisemaking. Then blindfold them and spin them around and around just to mess with their senses a bit - not to mention their digestion. Although integral elements in the game, the tail and the donkey were of little consequence to our fun-having experience. These childhood memories are priceless. If only I were still friends with one or two of these boys.
As time passed, pin the tail became bob for apples, became hide and seek, became roam with friends, became beer in the dorm, became kegs in the apartment and periodic costume parties. And this steady progression of birthday festivities went on for twenty-five years.
Then at twenty-six my birthday suddenly changed. Now I had my own children to decorate for the hunting and gathering of treats. Times had changed though and our young children were escorted along their routes. I always loved this. I loved watching my kids brimming with pride in their costume as they approached a door, expressed the obligatory “trick-or-treat” and eagerly awaited their new found bounty. 
Hearing a genuine “thank-you” was always a bonus to me and seldom would I find need to remind them. I would however always remind them of their obligations as "taxpayers”. This "daddy-tax" usually netted me the less precious spoils like small packs of M&M’s or an apple or a McDonald’s gift certificate. Never, or at least not until later years, would I get the prized Reese’s or Butterfinger’s or any of the full-sized candy bars. But still, taxed they were and I was satisfied.
Then, as our children grew older, Halloween became for them a time to be with friends. And Halloween became for me a time to remain at home alone with Denise and greet the neighborhood children. The doorbell rings and we marvel at their costumes and they present their open sacks for the filling on the porch of our house. And at the end of their night our children would always return home, ring the doorbell and trick-or-treat me. And this late evening tradition of homecoming children has become for me another fond birthday memory.
This year marked my fiftieth Halloween and I had grayed my hair to mark this occasion of wisdom at the office, lest anyone remain uncertain of this. And this fiftieth Halloween was the first where all of our children were away. J is in Seattle, Washington, M is in South Bend, Indiana and K is in Ames, Iowa. Each ring of the doorbell brought memories of the past and thoughts of the distance from our children. And each "trick-or-treat" reminded me of how much I love them and how much I miss them. But I tried to keep busy and purposely avoided the door. Denise stayed close though and assumed all of our treat distribution duties.
As time became late the porch became still. Denise found herself busy with something upstairs I found myself in the silence of our empty house. And suddenly I was alone on my birthday for the first time in my life.
The doorbell pierced the quiet and startled me. It was late and I arose and approached the door for the first time on this Halloween. I grabbed the remaining candy bars and opened the door to greet these last few treat seekers. They were blind mice - three of them. And they cried out in unison a most exhilarating “Trick-or-Treat!” Curious…I know these three. But no, it can’t be. They’re all away. They’re all too far away. And yet here they are. “Trick-or-Treat…TRICK-OR-TREAT!!” Stunned I just stood there in the doorway counting. One, two, three…yes all three right here, right now. Then finally came “Happy Birthday Dad!!!”
Yesterday was my birthday and there’s little doubt that I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.
A Halloween birthday offers one the luxury of remembrance. And I remember many birthdays. As a child my birthdays were often characterized by the costumes I wore and the treats gained. My parents would usually allow friends to gather at our home still in costume. We would sit in a circle on the floor in our capes or sheets or uniforms and inventory our loot. Then, as if grocery sacks full of candy were not enough fuel, my Mother would deliver us ice cream and cake. Oftentimes she would then ratchet up the excitement with some sort of energy releasing game. Silly by today's standards I'm sure, but pin the tail on the donkey was always popular when I was young. Image six or eight boys already buzzing from the excitement of costume, candy, cake, ice cream and the ceaseless running, bouncing and noisemaking. Then blindfold them and spin them around and around just to mess with their senses a bit - not to mention their digestion. Although integral elements in the game, the tail and the donkey were of little consequence to our fun-having experience. These childhood memories are priceless. If only I were still friends with one or two of these boys.
As time passed, pin the tail became bob for apples, became hide and seek, became roam with friends, became beer in the dorm, became kegs in the apartment and periodic costume parties. And this steady progression of birthday festivities went on for twenty-five years.
Then at twenty-six my birthday suddenly changed. Now I had my own children to decorate for the hunting and gathering of treats. Times had changed though and our young children were escorted along their routes. I always loved this. I loved watching my kids brimming with pride in their costume as they approached a door, expressed the obligatory “trick-or-treat” and eagerly awaited their new found bounty. 
Hearing a genuine “thank-you” was always a bonus to me and seldom would I find need to remind them. I would however always remind them of their obligations as "taxpayers”. This "daddy-tax" usually netted me the less precious spoils like small packs of M&M’s or an apple or a McDonald’s gift certificate. Never, or at least not until later years, would I get the prized Reese’s or Butterfinger’s or any of the full-sized candy bars. But still, taxed they were and I was satisfied.Then, as our children grew older, Halloween became for them a time to be with friends. And Halloween became for me a time to remain at home alone with Denise and greet the neighborhood children. The doorbell rings and we marvel at their costumes and they present their open sacks for the filling on the porch of our house. And at the end of their night our children would always return home, ring the doorbell and trick-or-treat me. And this late evening tradition of homecoming children has become for me another fond birthday memory.
This year marked my fiftieth Halloween and I had grayed my hair to mark this occasion of wisdom at the office, lest anyone remain uncertain of this. And this fiftieth Halloween was the first where all of our children were away. J is in Seattle, Washington, M is in South Bend, Indiana and K is in Ames, Iowa. Each ring of the doorbell brought memories of the past and thoughts of the distance from our children. And each "trick-or-treat" reminded me of how much I love them and how much I miss them. But I tried to keep busy and purposely avoided the door. Denise stayed close though and assumed all of our treat distribution duties.
As time became late the porch became still. Denise found herself busy with something upstairs I found myself in the silence of our empty house. And suddenly I was alone on my birthday for the first time in my life.
The doorbell pierced the quiet and startled me. It was late and I arose and approached the door for the first time on this Halloween. I grabbed the remaining candy bars and opened the door to greet these last few treat seekers. They were blind mice - three of them. And they cried out in unison a most exhilarating “Trick-or-Treat!” Curious…I know these three. But no, it can’t be. They’re all away. They’re all too far away. And yet here they are. “Trick-or-Treat…TRICK-OR-TREAT!!” Stunned I just stood there in the doorway counting. One, two, three…yes all three right here, right now. Then finally came “Happy Birthday Dad!!!”
Many months of conspiring had brought these three blind mice on a migratory journey homeward. And ironically, I was the one blinded. They converged in secrecy from three different time zones upon the airport in Omaha. Then they changed into costume as their car sped for their childhood home where they would spring their surprise on their oblivious father on his fiftieth birthday. And with this wonderful surprise our daughters had managed to maintain their late evening Halloween homecoming tradition for one more year.
For me, this Halloween ended spectacularly. I love these girls! And after fifty Halloween’s this was undoubtedly for me the best of many happy birthday memories.
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