By David Trinko
The Lima News
My wife and I sat at the end of the driveway the other night, handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters in our neighborhood.
While that sounds extraordinarily ordinary, it was a first for us. For all our years together, we always walked the streets with our own little ghosts and goblins for Halloween.
This year, our 10-year-old told us she wanted to walk with her friends. That was code for “without parental involvement.” Since we can pretty much see our neighborhood from the end of our driveway, we allowed it.
There’s always an element of pride and a dose of sadness that comes with your children hitting milestones like this, especially when it’s your youngest.
I won’t claim it was my favorite of parental tasks. I always felt like each trip to a neighbor’s door was an appraisal of our parenting skills. Did the girls say “trick or treat” loud enough? Did they make eye contact? Did they say “thank you”? Then you repeated the same trial 40 feet down the road.
Still, it was nice to see the people in our neighborhood with smiles on their faces. While my wife and I walk our dogs up and down the street nearly daily, we don’t see everyone every day. It was comforting to see the same faces pop through their front doors every October to hand out fun-sized candies — even if it seemed strange they aged every year while my wife and I permanently remain 29.
And so it went for years, starting with our oldest, whose time on beggar’s night overlapped with her two little sisters. Their time, too, overlapped with our youngest’s excursions.
Perhaps I’m more nostalgic about all this because I had no idea my last time trick-or-treating with my kids was my last time.
I missed out on last year’s trip up and down the block, as I had a work event that night. While it was cool my dressed-up children stopped in at that event, I didn’t get to walk up and down the streets with them. There’s always next year, I figured.
As it turns out, there isn’t. I don’t particularly remember anything unique about that last voyage, either.
It’s a good reminder that tomorrow’s never promised, and we should savor today. Change is the only constant, after all.
The beauty of old traditions ending is new ones can begin. I dragged our outdoor rocking chairs (a symbol of our advancing ages if I’ve ever seen one) out to the end of our driveway near the sidewalk, where our older girls passed out candy ever since they stopped collecting the booty themselves. My wife and I sat out there with our dogs, smiling as the neighborhood kids came dressed in their costumes.
It was nice to be on the other side of the transaction.
For what it’s worth, I never found myself judging others’ parenting skills based on saying the magic words right or making eye contact. I’m sure it’ll be comforting to see the same faces, parents in tow, come down the street every October to accept our fun-sized candies — even if it seems strange they age every year while my wife and I permanently remain 29.
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See past columns by David Trinko at LimaOhio.com/tag/trinko.
David Trinko is editor of The Lima News. Reach him at 567-242-0467, by email at [email protected] or on Twitter @Lima_Trinko.
