Halloween Reflections in the Mirror

10.11.2010

Last week, I put out the Halloween decorations like I have every year for the past 11 years. Halloween has always been my favorite day. I remember my mom making our costumes and looking forward to trick-or-treating. There’s something about that ritual that I’ve always loved and, I think, what I like most about it is that it’s the only day of the year that unifies absolutely each and every one of us (except for Jehovah’s Witnesses). It doesn’t matter the race or religion because we all celebrate Halloween somehow.

Decorating the place for any holiday always puts me in a good mood. I remember during grad school being stressed, convinced that I was a failure, and taking time out to put up decorations would immediately lift my spirits. But for the past 2-3 years, my mood isn’t lifted as high as it was once. I took note of that about 3 years ago but I didn’t process it, thinking that maybe it was because I was especially stressed at work.

Then last year I felt the spirits-not-getting-lifted-as-much-as-they-should even more. I probably could’ve given an answer as to why, were I to be pressed for one, but no one asked and I didn’t share so, as what comes naturally to me, I suppressed it. But this year, I couldn’t ignore it and I blame the console in the kitchen and the mirrors hanging over it.

See, each year I tend to put the same decorations in the same place. This year, though, I switched things around. I recently hung some mirrors in the kitchen so that we’d get outdoor light reflected in to what is our cave for an apartment and cleared a lot of stuff from the top of the console. With the space I created, I found a new home for some of the decorations and I ended up really liking the display I made. I took a step back, pleased with what I saw, and yet, despite the pleasure, the look reflected back at me in the mirrors was telling me something different.

I had no one with whom to share that particular moment. As excited and giddy as I was, I asked myself, “For whom are these decorations?” I originally got them because each year I would throw a party but that stopped a good 5 years ago. And though I still keep putting them out, I looked in the mirror and asked, “So what?” I might take great pleasure in the festive way the place looks, but there’s something missing. There’s a sparkle to these decorations that has faded, a sparkle that I see in the decorated homes with kids. This realization, or a more mature way of putting it is this acceptance, makes me feel a little lonely.