The Genuine Horror of Halloween as a Grieving Person
And how we can do better
From my journal in October 2020, a few short months after Mike’s death:
“I’ve never been so scared of Halloween decorations. Who knew a fake tombstone could bring a tear to my eye. That seeing a plastic skeleton dangling from a tree could make me wince. I never thought I could be upset by a box of cookies, but even they have betrayed me. The skull cookie repulses and horrifies me, and the ghost is like looking in the mirror. Ugh.”
It’s hard to read my journal from the time after Mike died. But I searched for it because it’s spooky season and I knew I’d had… feelings about it.
I forgot about the cookie betrayal though, way to kick a widow when she’s down.
This was from the first Halloween after Mike’s death, and it was a really difficult time. While preparing to move from the home we shared and going through all of Mike’s belongings, I would take walks for a brief reprieve.
I sought escape from the ghosts of my apartment only to be met in the neighbourhood with elaborate displays of plastic gravestones, coffins, corpses, zombies and skeleton human remains clawing their way out of the ground. These “decorations” filled the streets and shops and triggered my trauma, horror and experience with death. No matter where I went, I couldn’t escape it. Even from the relative safety of my couch logging into streaming sites wasn’t safe, I was overwhelmed with stylized images of death there too.
It was a lot to bear when I’d only recently buried my husband.
The hardest part about all this was that it was so starkly juxtaposed with how death and grief phobic our society is in general. (Buckle up, she’s on THAT rant again). I was acutely aware that every time I mentioned anything to do with Mike’s death, I was usually met with awkward silence and people that desperately wanted to change the subject.
Since that first year, I’ve become better equipped at managing my trauma, and the decorations don’t have the same effect. I can now walk the neighbourhood and enjoy some of the creativity without triggering my trauma.
I wrote this the following year, October 2021:
If you haven’t had a discussion about an actual gravestone of the person you love most in the world, that’s a privilege. If you’re decorating your lawn with fake plastic gravestones but get awkward and change the subject when I bring up the death of my husband, F*ck You.
Although it appears the anger around the sentiment remained! I no longer feel so strongly and like to think I have a little more grace and understanding since I wrote that, but it’s how I felt that day. Also, who was I talking to?!
Angry and bitter much… Who, me? Umm:
Just going as myself this Halloween. I am a widow and this terrifies people because it could happen to them too. I am a walking reminder that everyone you love will die.
Surprisingly, I did not get invited to any Halloween parties that year!
I know I might come across as a Halloween Scrooge, bah-humbugging all over spooky season. I’m not suggesting to take the decorations down, I just wish there was more balance the other way and there was space for real talk about death in our culture.
At the time I felt so isolated in these feelings, and like I was totally overreacting. It wasn’t until I read a piece from Megan Devine that I finally felt understood. It was the first time I’d read about a similar reaction and it was so validating, and why I decided to also share my views. I love the sentiment she expresses in this post:
If this season is meant for us to engage with death and fear, I’d rather see real, honest, brave conversations around death. I’d rather see us lean into our fear and come out with compassion, understanding, and a desire to not turn away from what is real for so many.
It seems like a missed opportunity to me!
If you’re recently grieving and feel like you’re losing your mind being spooked by the plastic fakeness and hypocrisy of it all – it’s not you. It’s our culture that’s weird. Do what you need to do to care for yourself this season.
And if you’re supporting a grieving person, maybe check in on how they’re feeling about Halloween and ask what might feel good for them to do. They may or may not want to attend a party with people dressed like murder victims and dead bodies. They may or may not feel triggered by decorations and want to participate in trick or treating. If in doubt, it’s always best to ask.
Being curious and asking the question offers them a chance to share how they’re feeling and there is so much power in that.
If nothing else, they might have one less sad journal entry to write.1
Meanwhile, I’m getting in the Halloween spirit in the ways that feel comfortable to me. I’m obsessed with all things pumpkin, including baking some pumpkin spice cookies23 (now THAT’s a cookie that hasn’t betrayed me… yet), participated in a witches paddle, and will enjoy handing out candy to the little halloweenies in the neighbourhood. And you can be sure I’ll get real talking about death to anyone that will listen.
Such a massive archive of sad journals to draw on. Should I continue digging these up? Or should I leave well alone?
I tried this two ingredient pumpkin cookie recipe and recommend.
I may or may not have already eaten four and won’t be taking further questions about the matter.