She replied to me and cc’d my sisters:
“Well …seeing that I abhor Halloween, hate the color orange, and one of you kids were throwing up on Halloween, I really don't remember what any of you wore. Annie (the Anything Goes sister) might be able to come up with an answer. Or e-mail Julie Ashley.”
My mother was referring to my best friend from sixth grade, the one I hadn’t spoken to since we were back in the Halloween parade on the blacktop. And if I did miraculously find her on Facebook, I doubt she’d remember my Halloween costume.
I figured I’d defer to my sisters, because surely we trick-or-treated together at some point, even if we were five and seven years apart.
Laura, the oldest, might remember since she was still trying to figure out how she got shuttle cocked into being the mother figure in our family in the first place. And if Laura didn’t know, then surely Anne would.
Laura replied to all:
“I was unfortunately the child who seemed to always be sick on Halloween. I remember having the flu, colds, and other ailments. I don't remember being out all that much. Now that the kids are able to go out, we go out, but not for hour and hours. What is the point? Who needs that much sugar, and in the end, it doesn't feel like people really enjoy answering their door 100 times a night.”
I wondered if Laura would remember her three kids’ costumes when the day came for them to ask her.
So I held out for Anne, the middle sister with the lock box brain for family memories:
“Okay, well, then. Perhaps I was raised by satanic cults, because I LOVED Halloween. Absolutely loved it. I recall my dice costume, spray-painting the shit out of those boxes in the basement. Real smart move there. No ventilation. Perhaps THAT'S why Laura was sick. Mom's sick way of nixing Halloween. Amanda, I am sorry for not recalling what you dressed up as. Think poor (because we were). I'm sure someone was a “hobo.” Not a lot of creativity running through our veins then, so surely there was a princess of some sort. Not much help, are we?”
