After the Candy’s Gone: Holding Onto Halloween Magic

The pumpkins are starting to slump, the candy wrappers are scattered, and the porch lights that glowed orange last week have gone back to normal. Or maybe where you are they are already green and red. Halloween may be over, but I’m still holding onto the laughter, the creativity, the way it gives permission to play.

It’s always been my favorite holiday, and I learned that from my dad. He was the one who made it feel bigger than just costumes and candy. He made it feel like joy. That one night when the ordinary becomes extraordinary. When adults can be silly, kids can be brave, and the world feels just a little more magical.

Even now, years after he’s gone, I still feel close to him every October. When I’m carving pumpkins, handing out candy, or gently scaring kids the way he loved to do. I can almost hear him laughing in the background the same way he did when I was little and too excited to sleep.

Every year, Halloween reminds me that joy is something we create, not just something we find. It’s in the planning, the effort, the ridiculousness of it all and in the way we show up for moments that somehow mean everything.

So as I pack away the decorations and step into November, I’m holding onto that lesson: that joy and love aren’t bound by seasons or calendars. They live on in the memories we keep and in the magic we continue to make.