One of the givens about grieving is the inclination towards nostalgia. It's often accompanied by tears, a shallowness of breath, slow movement and a pining to do things differently. Next time. Only the cruelty of life is there is no next time.
Nor, it seems, is there a way to write anything meaningful this Wednesday morning.
And so, I am reposting something from the past. This was written in 2009. 13 years ago. But it seems like 13 lifetimes ago...
Jay Chiat would be proud
One of the things I love about Halloween is the celebration of the macabre. My youngest daughter Abby seems to share that inclination.
After viewing some of the contestants on extremepumpkins.com, Abby was set on re-enacting the drowning pumpkins display she had seen online.
We carved faces that approximated the terror of drowning, then placed the two pumpkins in old aquarium that at one time was the home to our pet turtle named Candy. Candy met her demise when our dog mistook the tortoise for a chew toy.
I'll spare you the bloody details.
After submerging the pumpkins in 30 gallons of water and weighing them down with some leftover bricks, Abby wanted to give her own personal signature to the piece. And added the hand-crafted plea for "HELP."
Then in true "good enough is not enough" spirit had an idea that trumped her original concept.
Making it darker.
More subtle.
And more deliciously twisted.
Happy Halloween!
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