People often tell me that it’s amazing how much I remember about all of my past Halloween experiences.
Honestly, it’s a little strange to me, too.
I have moments where I can’t remember something I did mere minutes ago, yet I can tell you, in detail, about the first time I trick-or-treated, at age four, or search tirelessly for a decoration that made an impression on me after being spotted in a few random windows when I was twelve. It feels like a gift, to be able to relive and share all of these things about my favorite holiday, in such vivid detail, after so much time has gone by.
So, you can imagine how strange and surprising it is to me when I realize that there’s something I’ve forgotten.
There is an account I follow on Instagram, Vintage Halloween Store. I can’t say for sure, but I think they were one of the first Halloween accounts I followed there, before I had a major interest, or the means, to truly start a vintage Halloween collection. I was mostly hoping to find Winky through them, though obviously, that’s not how it happened. I have always enjoyed their posts; I just stopped checking them as regularly after Winky had finally been found.
However, one day last week, I got a notification that they had posted, and I just happened to look at the right time. In the little thumbnail that appeared next to the post notification, I saw something I hadn’t seen nor thought about in ages, but instantly recognized.
These little pumpkins...So tiny that they fit in the palm of my hand, yet so full of history.
These pumpkins, along with the pin mentioned here, hold my earliest memories of Halloween.
They were definitely around before I was born. In fact, I have a vague memory of my mother saying something once about how she had used them as decorations on her desk at work, prior to getting pregnant. Like the pin, they resided in a wooden bucket, tucked inside an end table with a hidden door, along with so many other small toys. They actually squeak when you open them and the cat or ghost pops out, and believe me when I tell you, I played with these until I wore the squeakers out and broke the stems off. It was as if, even before I’d ever truly experienced Halloween, they held some kind of magic for me. As if the ghost and cat inside were somehow foretelling my future. There’s a whole world inside that was, somehow, entirely made for me.
It’s so strange to think of these little relics, at one point nothing more than just some tiny toy amongst many others that would go on to be entirely forgotten, and now such an important piece; such a huge stepping stone on the road to becoming who I am today.
Stay spooky, my friends,
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