Day Seven Hundred and Seventy-Seven

The 4th Annual Trunk-or-Treat

It's that time of year again. The Jupiter air is cozy. The fake pumpkin patches are busy. The costumed kids look cutsie. And the Family Church trunks have lots and lots of candy.

But this year, ours didn't.

Halloween is different for us now. And forever, it will be. Because attached to the holiday is the anniversary of my Dad's passing. 

I think one of the most horrifying and vivid memories that I carry from that time, a year ago, was walking into my dad's house on November 1st, and finding the bowl of trick-or-treat candy sitting on the table. Untouched. It was eerie and tore at my heart. My dad loved Halloween. Mostly because it was a reasonable excuse for him to buy - and then eat - all sorts of chocolate candies that maybe he wouldn't have necessarily purchased in bulk. Dad did love his treats. And to see the bowl sitting on the table like it was...like a project left unintentionally unfinished...was just hard for me to comprehend. It still is. 

So far, I've handled the approach of this date well. The reality that it's already been a year hasn't choked my words or stabbed my heart. At least not yet. And for that reason, I didn't feel comfortable pushing my emotions any more than necessary. So this year, no trunk for us...

 So instead of handing out candy from our trunk, we decided to help our church's biggest community outreach for Jesus by serving the hundreds of costumed children with freshly twirled, free cotton candy. 

And clearly, this was not Adam's idea of service. Rather, his idea of torture. I just kept reminding him - as the sugary mess flew into his eyes, melted on his arms, and crusted into his hair - that we were doing this for Jesus. That's right. I bribed him with Jesus. A good bribe, I say. A true one too! Eventually, he accepted his two-hour fate and twirled that candy like a pro. I even saw him crack a smile once or twice.

What I learned

Four things:

1) Always remember to thank your local cotton-candy slave...I mean twirler. 

2) He doesn't cut it as a scout.

3) She doesn't cut it as a player.

4) Adam should have been an architect?! 

(He made that out of cardboard in 45 minutes!)