my costume.

I opened the door. To find a pirate. A princess. Dorothy Gale. And a witch. On the porch.

Each took turns grabbing candy from the pink pumpkin.

The witch proclaimed that I had her favorite candy. And thanked me profusely.

The pirate took more than one candy. The princess insisted that he give it back.

And Dorothy Gale. Asked me if I was a mommy.

Me. With my t-shirt, shorts and flip flops.

Hair in a pony tail. Bags that are packed for a two week vacation under my eyes.

Was Dorothy wondering this because she thought I had on a costume?

Or because she just wanted to know.

I simply said Yes. I am.

And realized that it fit. I am. A mommy.

Happy Halloween.

pancake mix

My husband grabs an expired box of pancake mix out of the pantry and asks:

"Do you have any emotional attachment to this mix?"

And I burst into tears.

I can remember, so clearly

Making a botched batch of zucchini pancakes.

With tofu noodles.

Making these with my sidekick. My right arm.

My Michael.

And then going out for pizza instead.

Because why would I think that zucchini pancakes, with tofu noodles, would be delicious?

This is my state of mind.

Holding onto things because there are memories associated.

I'm a hoarder.

It pains me to throw away anything that has any sort of attachment to Michael.

Stu put the pancake mix back in the closet. For another day.

I am a crazy woman. With a very sweet husband.

Who asks first because he knows me.

And doesn't think I am losing it.

Or at least he keeps that part to himself.

sometimes.

Sometimes.
I feel so sorry for myself.
The grass is greener on every other street.
But not mine.

My heart is empty.

And then I remember.
For almost 10 years. I had the joy. the pleasure. the love.
Of a boy named Michael.

And for that moment.
My heart is full.