Marjorie “hated” Halloween.

That’s what she told us, anyway.

Today is Halloween. It’s also the first anniversary of my beautiful wife’s passing.

So here’s the funny thing. Jeff, our youngest, says one of his fondest memories of his Mom is her taking him out Trick or Treating.

The woman who hated Halloween.

Not surprising, really cause she took the three of ’em out every Halloween they trick-or-treated.

My post was the front door. Hers was the street.

I manned the door at our house and gave out the goodies. She took the kids, cause I was busy saving the world in my Air Force job.

Not being the parents of the year, Marjorie and I favored Trick or Treat night on base at Scott AFB (the prime trick-or-treat years for the kids). Why?

Simple. In typical military fashion, it was well regulated.

Started promptly at 6 PM. Done promptly at 8.

Kids roaming after 8 PM on base were well monitored. And rare.

We did enjoy the prep. Buying and stocking the terribly sweet candy stuff to give out. Nothing homemade (the fear of razor blades in candy was all too common back then). Plenty of Hershey, Reese’s, Jelly Bellies, Snickers, Milky Ways and Three Musketeers, but how much to stock?

Our kids were to bring their loot in frequently so we could inspect it for the “bad stuff.”

Again, not seeking awards as parents, as the night wore on, if candy was getting low, we weren’t above “recycling” some.

Some of that inspected booty was then available.

Don’t think we were ever forced to recycle, but we would have if required.

Those days. The laughter, the giggling, the general delight and excitement of the kids. Precious, fleeting moments in parenting. They only come once and then they vanish.

Thank Heaven, the memories stay with us forever.

She hated Halloween. Riiiiight.

Yeah, I’m crying.

But it’s almost time to get up. Get dressed, empty the dishwasher, take my 11 pills, feed the cat, and get ready for Sunday luncheon at Kip and Valerie’s at noon.

One day at a time.

Enuf.