Halloween

When I think of holidays, little sweetheart, I invariably, of course, think of you. 

Spending Christmas together was one of my favorite memories of all time. Our first Valentines Day together was pretty special, even though we weren’t technically “together” until a few weeks later - you sat next me at dinner when Edna took everyone out after Tir na nOg to a restaurant that had no power and was lit only by candlelight. In Irish tradition, everyone around the table was asked to tell a story or sing a song and I sang Roberta Flack’s “Let Them Talk” with such emotion, the proceedings fell entirely silent. But you squeezed my hand and told me that you wanted me to sing it again later, to and just for you. 

Our second Valentines Day was that amazing trip your dad took everyone on to Lake Tahoe - our "trip to the snow" we came to call it. And we sure had a crazy and eventful 4th of July about a year later when your dad took us all up to stay on the Oregon Coast! Your brother Ryan shot off some fireworks from the porch that went off target and started a small brush fire at the edge of the property. 

Our gatherings never lacked for drama, little sweetheart, and as you told me that first week we were together as we raced toward some last minute appointment you were a little late and a lot panicked about, “it’s always like this.” 

All this to say, of course I think of you on every holiday but if someone were to ask me what your favorite was, although I’d be inclined to say Christmas, I think Halloween might give it a run for its money. You loved Halloween and it really revived my own affection for the day. I wrote about this in our book, little sweetheart, so it’s sort of on my mind. 

I had gone down to LA for a double-workshop reading of my plays 7PGS and Real Real Gone, you were getting ready for the transfer of the production of Rock n Roll from ACT in San Francisco to The Huntington Theatre in Boston. You flew out just a day or two before I - me back to New York and you to Boston, were I would join you the following week in advance of your birthday. I was staying with my friends from the theatre company in LA and since they lived in Van Nuys, the Burbank airport was closer, so I arrived and departed from there instead of LAX. It was a much smaller and friendlier airport and it was nice way to end the trip, which had been successful and fun. 

I’d forgotten until I got there that it was Halloween and when I got to my gate, all the Jet Blue crew and staff were in costumes. It was a really festive and cheerful atmosphere and it made me think of you instantly - how much you would love it. As I thought about that, it dawned on me that I hadn’t celebrated Halloween in years, had even come to find it a little annoying, people out on the street shouting, spilling out of bars in the wee hours. I was a curmudgeon before my time. When had I lost the joy, the childhood delight of Halloween? 

Like some many things, little sweetheart, you brought the holiday back, you gave it to me again. As ever, you brought the light back into my life. 

With all my love, always… Your Michael