No offense to my mom, but I don't want to hate Halloween. I don't want to be the only woman in the neighborhood who has no face to paint, no tiny hand to hold while trick-or-treating, and no candy to sort through at the end of the night. And I don't want my mom to be the miserable lady who hates this day. I want her to be the grandma who helps me sew my child's costume together. I want her to help me be the super mom that she was on this holiday when I was growing up. Halloween shouldn't be over for her. She should have to endure years more of everything that comes with this day - and so should I.
Instead, tonight, I sit at home in my pajamas. I take deep, shallow breaths through the pain of my cyst and cramps, munch on candy, and think about how different my life could be. Meanwhile, my mom sits at home, porch light off, most likely drinking a glass of wine on her couch - both of us eager to put this holiday behind us.