You kind of know it's coming, but it still seems to sneak in and take a bite out of your heart. The day when, after years and years of getting all the costumes ready and faces painted, you realize that you only need to work on two. One for you (because you work in an elementary school) and one for the last of your bundles of joy, because the remaining bundles are either on their own, in high school, or more into going to hang out with a friend because trick or treating is not really that cool anymore. I talked my husband, the bishop, into wearing some footie pjs I just got him this month for his birthday, but as much as I felt that need to paint a face or tuck in a shirt here or there, he could handle zipping up his glow-in-the dark (I kid you not) pjs just fine on his own, thank you very much.
So that left me and FG, my handsome little ten year-old who, luckily, still needs me and appreciates my fussing over him. As G.O., FG and I got into the car and went over to the church for our annual "trunk or treat", after saying good-bye to the big brothers who had other plans, it felt so strange to think that we are down to this on Halloween.
When my first son, Perry, was little and we lived in LA we spent so much time together. He was (still is) incredibly affectionate. We really were inseperable. And now I find that after years of expanding the family, going through all of the crunch years, seeing our first kids graduate from high school, etc., that I am down to one again. I still have others at home, but there is one that cuddles with me after school and that calls on the intercom if I take too long to come downstairs to tuck him in. I am blessed that boy #1 and boy #4 have been similar in that way. The Lord must have known that I would need that kind of loving little boy at the start and at the end.
So as this melancholy night comes to a close I am glad for sugar. Not the kind that comes in cellophane wrappers, but the kind I enjoy when my son gives me a big kiss on the cheek and tells me he loves me.