So It’s October

So. It’s October. And you may have noticed I’m not counting down to Halloween as I have in years past on the blog. I guess I’m a little depressed this year, given the one-year anniversary of my mom’s death coming up. I just don’t really feel like counting down to anything.

Last Halloween was shitty. I have to get this off my chest. I haven’t told this story to anyone. I spent the day at the hospital watching my mom on the dialysis machine as she drifted in and out of consciousness. And consciousness wouldn’t even be the word for it. More like in and out of context, whatever that means. I don’t even know what that means.

I had a terrible head cold. I stopped at Big Lots on the way home from the hospital to buy extra candy in case I didn’t have enough for the trick-or-treaters. I bought the world’s WORST EVER GENERIC bag of candy. It was the world’s cheapest, most rock-bottom, gutter crackhead candy. Seriously, it was personally hand-picked by Satan out of the dumpster. It was the only thing that was left.

I was also breaking down in Big Lots. Losing my mind. Fighting back tears, or really, it was beyond that. It was that point where you’re fighting back gigantic gulps of air. I was nearly shaking. I needed to cauterize it IMMEDIATELY. So I did what any reasonable person would do in this situation — I bought a ten-pound gingerbread man cookie.

Whoa. I know. Stay with me folks.

It worked. The fact that ten-pound gingerbread cookies existed shocked my brain enough to get it off the fact that my mom was dying. I just remember standing at the register with my bloodshot eyes, shaking hands, sniffling nose, a ten pound cookie, and Satan’s candy, knowing that I looked like the saddest human being ever that day in Big Lots.

The story gets worse. It rained. We barely got any trick-or-treaters. I did not need that crackhead candy at all. I had tons of candy leftover, like basically, all of it. I kept the chocolates and good stuff for myself, but man, I needed to get rid of that crackhead candy. Pronto. It felt like disposing of a body.

The next day I thought I might give the candy to my mom’s nurses. Except none of the nurses could even look me in the eye. They don’t look you in the eye when your mom is dying. They were all so cold and sterile. They just hope to go about their workday as quickly as possible.

So I pawned it off on my friend, casually, without really mentioning it. Like, hey man, I got all this extra candy. You want it? And he took it happily, until he got home and realized it was filled with ROCK HARD STALE Sugar Daddies and off-brand gum with the wrappers half hanging off. It was a terrible thing to do to a friend.

Then there was still that ten pound gingerbread man cookie, which ended up taunting me straight through December, when I finally worked up the nerve to toss it. Just… just fuck that cookie. I don’t have anything else to say about that.

Phew. That was last Halloween. Ugh. And now you know why I’m not counting down this year. I just can’t. However, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been hoarding and stocking up on Halloween stuff as usual. In fact, it’s the power of this crap that’s breaking through my depression.

For instance, this:


Candy Corn Pebbles and TrueMoo Orange Scream. This is easily the most exciting thing to happen to me in months. I mean, after my son being born of course. My life happiness list currently looks like this:

1. Son born
2. Candy corn pebbles
3. Orange flavored milk

People, I don’t even like milk. I hate milk! But orange milk in October is somehow the greatest thing ever to me, enough to bust through my wall of depression. And the verdict? It’s actually very very tasty! And as for Candy Corn Pebbles, well, they taste like a failed cereal idea. DON’T CARE. I LOVE THEM.

So it’s October. And so that’s kind of how it’s going for me.

18 thoughts on “So It’s October

  1. I miss your countdown, but I totally understand why you can’t do it this year.

    About the orange milk…is it orange flavored or just orange colored? Is it similar to OJ or Sunny D? I need to know more! Also, I hate candy corn but I feel like I still need to try those pebbles…if for no other reason than Pebbles’s and Bamm-Bamm’s costumes.

  2. Go easy on yourself. I lost my mom 2 years ago to Cancer. The 1st year afterwards for me, was reliving through old moments when my mom was well, sick and in final stages. I have memories tied to every season of that year. Be gentle with yourself. It got a lot easier for me after year one. Love your blog! xo

  3. I understand. I won’t offer the usual trite platitudes except to say my mother died 2 years ago. Parents have lived with me last 12 years(only child). I was her home hospice nurse last 5 weeks. Her presence or echoes of presence occupy at least 10% of my thinking moments each day. Just dad(91) and I now.

  4. I’m glad you dumped the gingerbread.

    Your posts about your mom have been so deeply touching all along. I haven’t read much else that captures the experience of grief as you do. Thank you.

  5. i get it. my dad died right before easter 3 years ago. I hated that easter. eggs, candy, the whole deal. and dont get me started about religion — that year I didnt want to hear it. But, the counterbalance, and what I believe will be your lift out of the fog ( you know, besides the orange milk) were the babies, or in your case, the baby. My grandchildren and their little faces and chocolate hands, and cute outfits, and oh my, those hugs — they brought me around. I still hung on to the funk, but the love of a child pulls you from the hands of sorrow and depression and self angst. Drink it in.

  6. Loved this post. It was emotional. Nostalgic Insightful. Funny. And … even informative about the flavor of orange milk. Who could ask for more out of a blog? Honestly … no one.

    I cried for you over your mom again. This was wonderfully beautiful.

    Hang in there, Pizza. Cause we need you. And Halloween needs you.

    And Gingerbread men? Nope. Fuck Gingerbread. Fuck ’em. They are the worst.

  7. Hey Pizza, at risk of being *that comment person*, I just wanted to chime in with everyone else about not being too hard on yourself. My boyfriend, sister and I have been big fans of your blog for the past couple of years and my boyfriend passed away this past April in a very similar way as your mom. I remember being in the waiting room on a break, going back to your posts as you were going through it and feeling some horrible sense of comfort that I wasn’t alone in this ICU/Hospital BS world that I lived in that brief moment. I hope that doesn’t come off as me being the biggest asshole-I would never ever wish for someone to go through that. I guess I’m just writing one big long thanks, man. It takes real courage to share what you do, and you never know who it’s going to help.
    Also, I agree with Jenny. Gingerbread men are the absolute effing worst.

  8. I don’t know when it occurred to me that it’s okay to take breaks or even break permanently from things that used to bring joy, but of course it is. Life changes, we do what we need to adapt and recover. Glad to hear you’re still partaking in the flavors of Halloween. Those fruity pebbles sound pretty good.

  9. Mlik is supposed to be colored naturally by the item is containing. Like, if you eat fruity pebbles. The milk will be fruity. This is just… unholy. But I guess it’s Halloween related, so I guess unholy is OK.

  10. Sup, I cant put into work on how I am feeling right now, I followed you for a while now and its also what got me back into blogging and I thank you for that. I am truly sorry for your loss as I read your posts last year all I could think of was how much of a strong person you are for posting all that, all I can say is WOW! Oh and by the way you have a beautiful son, on Aug 1st we were blessed with a baby girl…..oh and that Nosefrida(snot-sucker) “Best Thing Ever” with a fussy baby at 3am

  11. Well if nothing else, you can use my Trick or Treat drinking game. (I’m not 21 just yet, but I’m making a giant batch of virgin hurricanes.) Everytime a kid in a Frozen costume shows up at your door, you take a drink.

  12. It’s hard to lose someone…even harder when it’s a time of year when you’re supposed to be in a celebratory type mood. I lost my father to a car accident last Christmas Eve. I suspect Christmas will just never be the same ever again. Something I used to get excited and child-like about has lost that sparkle to a dull thud. Extract enjoyment from any little thing you can. Orange milk can only be a good thing, and sharing your experiences with us, make my world a better place too.

  13. So sad to read, I’m sorry, an entire year is too little time to overcome something like this.
    This make me remember when I was bullied by my own family on my birthday last year, they said they were just joking, but fak, it was godammed hurting (those bastards…), so I don’t want to celebrate my birthday anymore with them or spend any time with them except the strictly neccesary. After a year, it still hurts.

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