Scary Halloween

October 31st, 2024

“There’s one thing that’s real clear to me
No one dies with dignity
We just try to ignore the elephant somehow”

from the song “Elephant” by Jason Isbell

Halloween is for kids. Apparently, it is also for senior citizens. Our grandson, Asher, went trick or treating with his three Texan cousins this afternoon at the Texas Loving Care Senior Living facility in Madisonville. None of us had never been there before. My wife, Karin, and Gabby, the mother of the Texans, went in with the kids. Asher was dressed as a hot dog (with ketchup and mustard). Weston went as a dragon from Minecraft. Maddy was Princess Peach from Super Mario. Little Wyatt was Blippi. There weren’t any other children at the nursing home when we arrived, and there weren’t any when we left.

Texas Loving Care is a small operation in a larger than average suburban home. When we walked into the home, about a dozen old folks were seated in a circle in a room with a fireplace. By “old” I am saying that they are older than me, so that means over sixty-six years of age. Some of them were clearly much older than I am. There was a man sitting near me with a cap that indicated that he was a WWII veteran. That implies that the guy is pushing 100 years of age. He seemed more alert than most of his fellow residents.

The four kids range in age from two to five. They did not seem to be completely aware of all that was going on. The same could be said of some of the people handing them treats. Not many of the old folks talked with the kids. They appeared to be distracted. The residents all wore costumes: Spiderman, Little Red Riding Hood, a witch, a skeleton, a pumpkin. I am sure it was all meant to be festive, but it was also a bit macabre.

As I watched the children make their rounds, I thought to myself,

“Fuck, I will be here soon.”

Well, maybe not in Texas Loving Care, but some place similar. I was not happy with that thought. The staff had put up Halloween decor. The space also had Bible verses posted on the walls. One side of the room was the “Wall of Honor” with old photos of long dead vets hanging there. It was like a version of Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion. Everybody sitting in that circle was teetering on the edge of the afterlife. My mind filled with dark thoughts.

We were only in the home for maybe ten minutes, although it seemed like an eternity. The kids had their bags of loot. We made a hasty exit after thanking the people inside.

My son, Hans, the father of Weston, Maddy, and Wyatt and an Iraq War vet, had been waiting outside smoking a several Pall Malls. I told him what it was like in there.

Hans told me, “Don’t talk like that. Those people have hearing aids.”

He went on, “I saw that WWII vet in there, and I thought for sure that Gabby would put me in there too.”

Gabby replied, “Damn right.”

When I am old, really old, will I want to have somebody dress me up as Spiderman to amuse toddlers on Halloween? I have no idea. Maybe I will.

Why not?