With tomorrow being Halloween, I can’t help but reminisce on last year’s Halloween, Holden’s first. And as I scroll over the days and months that have been between then and now I sit with a smile.
The sun has again started to come up later in the morning, over the trees that surround the park looking out my kitchen windows. That bright pink painting I so vividly remember alluding glimpses of hope during my Dark Ages.
Last year during this time Holden and I had just moved into our new house. The big step after living at home with my parents upon moving back for help. On our own.
Trick or Treating, being in public. Two things that were quite difficult for me at the time as I was still so emotionally unstable due to the depressive turmoil I had been struggling with months leading up to the holiday. It was Holden’s first Halloween, and through my tears I wanted to make sure he got the experience: seeing all the kids running around in costumes. Maybe even taste his first piece of candy.
He wasn’t walking yet himself. Pushed him a couple streets passed our own and called it a night. But not before running into someone I knew years earlier from a local business. “So you and your husband just moved here? Welcome to the neighborhood!”
Thank you. My steps picked up the pace and quickly turned home for safety.
The next morning, the pink sky. Hope. First Halloween down and we did it. Holden and I did it together. Another first on the list of those that hurt so much.
As I watched that same pink sky rise above the trees this morning, I’m grateful that it’s a year later now. Time has passed, firsts have passed. Changes have been made and positive things have happened. Healing has happened.
Ready for the seconds.