October has always been my favorite month. I can remember as a child waiting for the calendar to flip from September to October. That signaled when it was okay for me to start decorating my front yard with graves, ghouls, and headless bodies. Yeah, I’ve always had a fascination with the macabre and dark things. As I grew older and reached high school and college age, my “traditions” changed from decorating the yard to having multiple horror-movie marathons throughout the month of October. But, still, it was like some switch went on inside me when the calendar flipped from September to October.
But in the last few years, that excitement I’ve had for the month of October has waned. Sure, I still enjoy the weather (for the most part) and the changing of the leaves, but I don’t seem to have any “traditions” that I hold on to anymore. And it feels as if I’ve missed the entire month of October this year. This bums me out.
I have two young children and I really want to instill in them the excitement I once had for this month. I’m not talking about a love for gory zombies and rotting arms sticking out of the ground—although, I’d happily take that. I’m talking about enjoying a time of year when it’s okay, and even encouraged, to allow your imagination to run wild. A time of year when we can find beauty in death and decay.
I’m going to make sure that next year we slow down just a little bit so when can enjoy this enchanting season. Sure, maybe the kids will decide they want to decorate the yard with unicorns and fairies. But that’s okay. As long as they’re excited and their imagination is flying free, I’m fine with it.