Witchy Poo and the Friendly Ghosts of Halloweens Past

There’s a 1970s wax witch candle on my mantle this month. It’s a favor my middle sister handed out (sixth grade, perhaps?) at her mid-October birthday party. The wax is cracked now, and the black hat leans a little, but the sight of it takes me straight back to celebrations past and the anticipation of Trick or Treating.

That same sister texted me yesterday a photo of a troll she and her daughter found years ago in New York City — love the scraggly hair and mischievous grin. Somehow that little figure traveled with her all the way to her retirement home in Panama. She still brings it out at Halloween, a reminder that holiday magic travels with us.

On my mantle sits a wire-limbed witch my daughter once called Witchy Poo. We’d read a Halloween storybook, and she’d bend the witch into poses and supply the cackle.

Nearby is a colorful tin with a vintage Halloween image — a gift from my mother-in-law years ago, once filled with my favorite chocolates. These small things don’t match each other, or even belong to the same decade, yet together they form a kind of family album in three dimensions and generations.

That’s the spell of vintage holiday décor. It’s less about design than continuity. One generation’s simple party favor becomes another’s heirloom. Each year when we open the box of decorations, we’re calling up the people and places that shaped us. The plastic and wax, the dents and dings, are proof that joy leaves evidence.

As October darkens early and porch lights begin to flicker, I like to think of all of us unpacking our memories: the crooked witches, the ceramic pumpkins, the faces that made our Halloweens what they were. From my home to yours, may you rediscover a few of your favorite ghosts tonight, and may those echoes of laughter return as the doorbell rings and new trick-or-treaters arrive.