Halloween was Lorin’s favorite holiday. He loved getting dressed up and greeting the neighborhood kids.
If Halloween fell on a weekend, we would get more inventive with our costumes since we weren’t getting home late from work.
On one such Halloween, Lorin dressed up as a hillbilly zombie or was it a “redneck” zombie? He was excellent with makeup from his years studying and working in the theater. He wore a torn flannel shirt, suspenders, old pants, hiking boots and carried a mixing bowl with blood (red food dye colored water) and eyeballs (fake, of course). He stirred the bowl with a wooden spoon while sitting on the stoop. He scared some kids, but one actually asked for an eyeball, much to his mother’s chagrin.
I dressed up as the “joker’s wife” (Heath Ledger’s Joker) in a housedress, torn knee-high stockings, big slippers, matted hair in a hairnet with rubber spiders in it, and white face paint with a jagged red smile.
We were quite the pair.
A neighbor took a photo of us, but I can’t find it.
I will miss Lorin at Halloween, as I do every holiday, and every day.
This poem is dedicated to him. I almost had my best friend read it at his memorial service, but I changed my mind. I would have preferred to have read it myself, but I wasn’t fit to do so.