The ghosts, goblins, fairy princesses and super powers have come and gone from our house, leaving no tricks, their bags bulging with treats, meaning another Halloween has passed. I enjoy the sporadic parade of kids in masquerade (I don’t even mind the older set as long as the candy holds out, their voices already hitting the low notes of “Trick or Treat,” who come later in the evening). In the past so did Ken. This year he made no recognition of the holiday when I placed pumpkins on the porch, an immense spider clinging to an equally over-sized web hanging from the roof, and a friendly ghost stuck in my juniper bush which was sprinkled with candy-corn lights. The house looked festive and inviting and I raced to the door with my caldron of candy at the first ring.
I could see the groups of small fry in costumes were confusing to Ken, who managed to get to the door in front of me offering out a jumbled scolding to a mom and dad with little ones. I pushed in next to him explaining “Alzheimer’s,” adding, “You didn’t get your candy,” as they all scurried down the walk. The parents, looking a bit unsettled, shouted over their shoulder, “That’s okay.” I moved my chair next to the door so it wouldn’t happen again. I strive to be as “normal” as possible, but as Alzheimer’s gets worse, the problems get bigger and more difficult to manage.
Soon, Granddaughter, Jessica, 10, arrived looking extraordinarily beautiful, glittering petals covering the skirt of her fairy princess costume, a jeweled snood for her hair and wings with which to fly, everything stitched and put together by Sabina, her talented mom. Jessica, while enjoying the trick and treat part, almost likes being the hostess more, taking over my duties handing out the candy while her parents talked with me and Ken, who soon relaxed, his son’s presence and friendly banter calming him.
As I survey the growing problems as caregiver to a person suffering with Alzheimer’s (not to overlook what caregivers all over the world are experiencing) I think of the little ones out on Halloween night with plastic pumpkins and decorated bags carried to collect their evening’s loot. As young as they are, they have problems and for them, their problems, when they arrive, loom just as large as our problems are to us, which reminds me of my seven-year-old friend, Robert.
While visiting grandparents in Northern California, he was allowed to pick out his own pumpkin. Selecting it from the vine, helping load it into the wheel barrel, and then into the car, his Aunt Chrissy declared that she would buy the 95 pound pumpkin for his birthday. At home, the gift sat proudly on the front porch until some thoughtless and mean-spirited thieves took it while Robert was in school and his mother, Malena, away from the house. Robert was inconsolable. He sobbed until Malena thought his heart would break, nor did he understand the ways of the world, or why anyone would take his special gift. The theft of his Halloween-birthday pumpkin was, to Robert, the biggest problem he had ever encountered, and a problem he was unable to solve. Our story, however, has a happy ending when a family friend, who is also a police detective talked with Robert, assuring him the “force” would see that his pumpkin was found and returned. Meanwhile, our detective located an equally large pumpkin and, back in full police uniform, delivered it to Robert’s porch.
Problems and adversity are a necessary part of our growth in life and they have no age preference, whether they be problems dealing with dirty, rotten scoundrels, age and illness, business problems, problems of the heart, families in crisis, or problems of young marrieds making their budget stretch to cover the mortgage. Like pain, no one can measure the severity of another’s problems, nor can anyone decide if the problem is big or small — only he to whom the problem belongs is allowed to make that distinction. One thing, however, is for sure: no matter what the behemoth which might lumber into our lives, the enormity of it is always lessened by love from those who care: sometimes a stranger, family members, friends or a good and kind police detective.
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