Category: Life Topics

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I always end up sitting with the people who have a tupperware with smelly food and the urge to tell me their life story from DNA on up!

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A small curiousity had been nagging at me, in the back of my mind, since I last watched “The Great Pumpkin” Charlie Brown last October.   Why did all the kids get candy, and Charlie Brown kept getting rocks?   I’m sure Charlie started the night hopeful, wearing his obviously homemade ghost costume with multiple eye holes. I loved that he looked different from everyone else. But, ALAS, I’m afraid the adults didn’t feel that way.As all the kids received candy or money during trick or treat, he kept getting rocks! What kind of people would be so cruel? Here it was, the most important night of the year for kids, and he was sent a message that he wasn’t good enough to get candy.

Everything always turns out well in the end, and I’m sure Charles Schultz was just confirming his characters “black cloud over your head” life, who kept his spirits up and always had the support of his best friend.

Once I moved on from feeling sad for Charlie, I began to see a bigger message appear through Linus and Sally’s (with “naturally curly hair”) relationship, or so she thought. Sally is determined to make Linus her man, and through that self commitment decides to forgo  Halloween to be by his side. Linus doesn’t really calculate her commitment fully, but is glad to have someone by his side, and help her understand the wonders of “The Great Pumpkin”.

Here is where you know what’s going to happen…the Great Pumpkin, disguised at Snoopy, or rather Snoopy disguised as The Great Pumpkin rises from the patch.   It dawns on Sally that Linus’ beliefs are a crock of you know what, and she feels the wave of disappointment and anger come crashing down on her.   Her reaction is perfect. Wow, she really lets him have it.   I have often tried to, deservedly, have that reaction without actually finding my voice.   Sally not only found her voice, she raised her voice and let her “boyfriend” know that she was pissed.  She was the ultimate supportive “girlfriend”, as she reluctantly adopting his dream and supported his beliefs.

No one believed Linus’ belief in The Great Pumpkin, but it was his choice, that he fully relished, to skip bagfuls of candy and wait for something greater.   She did it for the relationship. If she stood by his side, and they both witnessed this event, then that would seal their destiny together. Really Sally?

I enjoy this movie every year, and have recently seen Linus in a new light. I admire his commitment to his dream of seeing The Great Pumpkin. He was not going to listen to anyone.   His mind was made up.   I also love Sally’s devotion to her alleged boyfriend.   Her devotion bordered on absurd, but very very endearing.

I think Sally wanted a rock, unlike Charlies. She was willing to lose herself to be “the better half”.   She forgot about her own pumpkin patch, and adopted her man’s dream.   Not uncommon.

I have waited for “The Great Pumpkin” myself.   And, when he didn’t show up, I walked out of the pumpkin patch.   I have kept any anger to myself…days lost,  years lost,  time lost.  The major difference between myself and Sally is that she got MAD AS HELL, and she wasn’t going to take it!   I just moved on.

I’m back to trick or treating, noticing people in pumpkin patches, but not missing out on the best night of the year….during the best years of my life.

Susan McLaughlin Grevelis

I feel the weight of her 70lbs on my back as I bend down to liberate her from her everyday garb that disguises her changing body.  She above me, folded in half,  with an ear to my back.  Momentarily motionless, perhaps lulled by the sound of my thumping heart below and the crashing water ahead.  She is statue-like as I fight her foot to claim the last few inches of her leopard spotted knee sock.

It is bath time and she is ready.  She voices no demands for fancy toys; no pleads “more bubblesmommy”.  There are a few simple needs: a hand for support in and out of the tub, warm water, and unrestricted splashing.

Once in the water she maneuvers to find the perfect spot before sinking in.  The water is past her waist and free from any distractions except for an occasional empty water bottle or an action figure floating around left by her little brother.  She pays them no mind.  The water is enough for her.  It is plentiful and warm.

She begins her play by slowly tapping the water’s surface as if tuning an ancient beloved instrument.  She then dives in and begins to slap a rhythm that she repeats over and over again with an intense passion.  This is a familiar song, one that is heard most places around the house but in this wet place there is an added sensation that delightfully surprises her.

She is entranced.  Ignoring her audience and without the possibility of letting anyone else join in on the fun, I retreat to another room close by and secretly listen in.  I can hear her happy sounds. I remember how much she has always loved the tub.  I am hit by wave after wave of memories of her life before that predawn morning in March.  I feel a pulling, an intense undertow taking me to the past.  Then I hear her splashing her tune and am pulled back above the water, in the present with  my first born.

In a short while the beat slows and I pop back in.  She rises from the water unsteady like a mermaid with new land legs.  She is done.  She waits for my hand and very slowly steps out and reaches her foot for the fuzzy gray rug.  She shivers as I wrap her tightly with a soft bath towel.  I smooth away the goose bumps quickly but she is impatient.  She struggles to be still as I dress her like a lady-in-waiting.

She grabs for the door as I rush to get a brush through her mess of curls.  She makes unhappy noises.   Often times she presses her forehead to mine, as if to send me a message telepathically.  Sometimes I am sure that I hear her, I wonder if she can hear me.