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Today, the lady at Walgreens who sold me cotton balls and chap stick was dressed like a clown. She was very friendly and talked about how she was NOT looking forward to taking her kids trick-or-treating tonight. My only response was to advise her not to take things like that for granted. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” she replied, rolling her eyes. And again my eyes leaked tears from behind my sunglasses as I walked back to my car. All of a sudden, something one might never perceive as possible, throws your whole train off the track.

I remembered dreading the hustle and bustle involved in this holiday. Getting both of my eager, energized children fed, in costumes and ready for the night’s festivities was always a whirlwind and often frustrating. But this year…it’s just painfully silent. Still. Painfully devoid of the animated enthusiasm that I had grown so accustomed to. No little race car driver or little officer Noah. No pumpkin patch, Spirits from the Past, visits to grandparents, trunk-or-treating. So much hustle and bustle now replaced with…just space.

I may not wear a costume but I feel like a ghost. Just floating through, scared and unsure of where I am or how I got here. Stumbling through the daylight, bewildered and wounded. Again bawling my eyes out like it just happened yesterday.

So Halloween, just like every other day since Noah left us, will be different and strange. Unexciting, painful and full of tears. Jason, Zoe and I are going to dinner and a movie to try to take our minds off of what we are so obviously missing this year.