All Hallows Eve

Some context: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halloween

Now I tried to go to bed on time last night. I was tired and could not keep my eyes open. But as with everything else in my life, my bed time has a ritual. I carry Jeter upstairs with me and set him on the bed. I fill a dish of water for the dogs to drink during the night and set it by my bathroom door. Then I lay in bed in a half sleep while I await Blue to find her way upstairs, where she stops to drink water and then comes over to my side of the bed. I then have to get up, and help lift Blue into the bed – it’s a high bed. Blue is a heavy Pitty.

But I can’t go to sleep just yet. I have to wait a few minutes more until Jeter crawls to the bottom end of the bed and starts to whimper, which signals he wants to get down and have a drink and then go and sleep on his floor bed. You see, Jeter is pretty much blind by now and his old body would never survive a drop from the high bed.

Why don’t I just leave Jeter on the floor to begin with? Fair question.

Because when I try that, Jeter cries until I lift him up and put him on the bed beside me.

He’s old, but he wants to make his choices. We all do.

And I am a slave to the needs of my animals.

Now sometimes Lisa is in bed before me, and sometimes – when she’s off the next day – she comes up a little later. Often with Blue, who sleeps on the couch most evenings until she realizes that we have all gone to bed.

So, by the time I finished with the McCaffrey animal version of a Marx Bros. movie scene, it was nine p.m.

With Blue’s paw shoved stiffly in my back, I fell asleep.

As usual, I woke on my own. What was unusual, was that it felt like I was being hugged around the shoulders. Barely perceptibly. My body was covered in goose bumps. I turned towards the center of the bed and went to reach for Blue, who sleeps like a human – head on a pillow – wedged between Lisa and me like an Amish Chaperone. But for some reason Blue skittered down to the bottom of the bed out of my reach. Weird thing was that the static electricity in the air caused electrical flashes with each of her movements, as energy arced from her feet to the comforter. Cool, but strange looking. I had never noticed that phenomenon before.

I thought it was my normal wakeup time. 2 a.m. I felt wide awake. So, I slid out of bed, lifted Jeter from his bed on the floor and carried him out to the landing outside the bedroom suite, where I checked on the Alexa screen clock in the living room below. It was 12:15 am. But I was wide awake.

I thought about going back to bed, but figured fuck it. I would just lay awake in the dark. So, I carried Jeter down to first floor. Took my first batch of supplements (again routine) got dressed, and then carried Jeter down to the basement.

Now the rest of my morning routine is that I let Jeter out the back door while I prepare his and Blue’s breakfast and put my coffee on. I also take the rest of my supplement regimen. I realized that it was too early to feed Claire and Honey. But when I let Jeter out, I glanced over toward the barn, and there was Claire fully illuminated, standing by the side gate waiting for me. I could see Honey’s ass below, sticking backward half way out of the barn. She was eating from a bag of pellets. They were both wide awake and ready to eat. So, I fed them. It was 12: 30 am.

The slightly waning moon still threw off a lot of light, as my work shop can attest.

Now, it being Halloween, I lit an extra candle for my ancestors – blood and other – and set it on the wood burning stove that I’ve never used to heat, but what some may refer to as my alter. It is my sacred space. It is where I focus my intentions and burn my candles and incense. Lavender, of course.

I’ve collected a lot of trinkets and knick-knacks over the years. The book below comes from one of Helen’s friends, a self described psychic- witch named Dee, who among many interesting events, foretold the totally unexpected arrival of my grandson, Lucian. But that’s another story.

Now those paintings to either side are of my Riverdale home. My darling niece, Taylor, commissioned a British artist to do them as a gift for me. To the left is the two houses that make up the McCaffrey compound on Mosholu. The house on the left in that painting is where my youngest brother, John, and his wife, Tara live. On the right is the McCaffrey family home. John now owns that as well. Normally, today we would have the two houses decked out in animatronic witches and ghouls and Jason, etc. People would come from all over the Bronx just to enjoy the spectacle.

Now, the interesting thing was that when I got the painting, the first thing I noticed, was that in the front upper window of the family home was a figure. A ghost?

That tiny window in the attic was Eddie’s room. We used to sit out on that ledge when we were younger. Think deep thoughts. Set the world to rights.

On Halloween, my son, Mark, would scamper around that attic landing dressed like a creature, which drew a lot of attention from passers by, and led to a lot of filming and photo ops.

But getting back to the painting. I’m not sure what possessed a painter in England to include the figure in the window. When I pointed it out to Taylor, she confirmed that, despite those wonderful apartments, inside, her brother JM and his wife, Joyce, and baby JP live on the first floor, she would never live in the family house, especially those upper floors.

Now before we moved the candy cauldron to the driveway between the two houses, kids went up the front stairs of the Family Home where they would be greeted by my mother, sitting in a chair in the doorway, dressed like a witch. She had this great head of white hair, and loved to sit there for hours in that role, so she could – in her amazing feat of Diabetic fuck you – consume half the candy she was supposed to be handing out. She was never happier. The empty wrappers blew about her feet rustling in the wind coming through the doorway like scattering fall leaves.

That was my mother the day that she died. Tara and I gone to collect her from Lawrence Hospital, where she insisted – with all of the curses she could muster (those poor nurses were petrified) – to be released to go back home. She was telling me that she couldn’t sleep there because all of the ghosts appearing in her room all night that would not leave her alone.

She died that night at home in her own bed, in the family home, with a room full of her family, living and dead, blood and adopted, around her, but that’s another story.

But when she was alive, she loved to man the Halloween post, and eat as much candy as she could.

I believe that is my mother in the window in the painting. I think of her every day when I gaze at it and pass some incense by it.

Now in the other painting, which is the back yard view of the family home, the British artist made another interesting artistic choice to include me peering from the second floor porch and my father peering from the first floor porch. For some reason, I was channeling Uncle Fester Addams in the painting. I think that may have been Taylor’s eternal joke on me. Atta girl.

My father had also died in the family home, in the same room as my mother, a couple of decades before her. It is the room right behind where he appears on that porch. I have it on good authority from the very gifted psychic, Ginger, who was on the phone with me at the moment when Mom died, and told me moments before to open the window because she was about to pass, that my father was there (fully and correctly described) – along with her parents, including Nana “Bridey” Burke (yep, that one) to take Mom across the veil.

Now, as anyone who has read FJM will know, Mom often interacted with the other ghosts in the family home, especially BJ. He was always her favorite. The story I recount about his visit to Jimmy Moran is Gospel. He has also visited other family members, including my wife, years later, when he responded to one of her desperate entreaties for help one day when she was alone in the house trying to move heavy furniture between floors and freed a large metal day bed that was wedged on the attic stairs and floated it down to the next landing right before her eyes where it came softly to rest, as she stood there, amazed.

Hand to God. Blood McCaffreys may be genetically crazy, but those that marry us must be given the benefit of the doubt.

Well, anyway, all of these thoughts came flooding back to me this morning. I think that was my mother who woke me. I just got chills as I typed those words.

Now, oddly enough, I just received a text (2:30 am my time) from my beautiful Aussie DIL, Georgie, who loved engaging in our Halloween events back in the Bronx, with just a photo of my three grandchildren, all decked out in Oz in their Halloween costumes. Left to right, below, Savanna, Scarlett and Stella. Yep those three are the basis for the characters in The Claire Saga.

Now, and Georgie could not have known this because she has not read WTLLM, (partial spoiler alert), the now adult character, Scarlett, has grown into a full fledged witch.

Bridey’s magical blood line continues down through Vera and into her great-great grand daughters.

Georgie texted immediately afterwards that Scarlett has not broken character the entire day. Atta girl. Cast those spells.

And that is just one more reason why today is my favorite holiday.

Unfortunately, we get very few children trick or treating along my road. And as you know, the weather has not been conducive to Halloween decorations. But Lisa still created some baggies for the locals we can count on as well as some loose candy for the unexpected. If you bag it they will come.

Worse case scenario, I gain another 25 pounds before Thanksgiving. Screw the dreadmill.

The good news is that, because of Lisa’s Marrero Latin maternal bloodline, we also get to claim tomorrow’s Día de los Muertos. Olé!

Doesn’t get any better than this.

Well, I have a work day in front of me, but my mind will be firmly focused on the mystical.

You fine, five readers embrace your inner ghoul or ghosty, and try to have some fun today. Even if it’s just for the kiddies.

Maybe give some of your ancestors some loving thoughts. Prayers. Light a candle. They will be around.

Now I have some kitties to cuddle and rounds to make. I will say trick or treat to the animals as I dispense their goodies.

But whatever we do, let’s make today a great one.

Maybe I’ll put on a robe.

Happy Halloween!