Thinking of Halloween.... and Queens.

We will most likely have our annual Halloween party next month. I can't remember how many years we've been doing this now. All I have to do is look it up in our party book, or our guest book, but I think it's been about six years now, maybe even seven. I keep notebooks of all those things.... invitations, place cards, party guests and gift-bags. I don't know why.... they don't mean anything to anyone except me. And maybe young Miss C, who pages through my party book whenever the mood strikes her. She loves to look at all the invitations we've sent out over the years, and she enjoys all the place cards I've made. She calls it my "party scrapbook," but to me, it's just a notebook, a reminder, so I don't send out the same invitations or give away the same party gifts from year to year.


It's been an emotional week. My grandmother's house is just a memory now, with my Aunt Dolly safely in Florida, and the house being sold. The porch furniture from her house is now at our lake cottage, a silent testimony to all that happened in the 89 years that my grandparents lived in their Queens home. The little stool from grandma's kitchen waits for me by the counter in our lake kitchen, with the memories of everyone in the family hovering around it.... there wasn't a family member or a visitor who didn't at one time sit on that stool next to grandma's stove. It was the favorite spot in the entire three-story home..... prime real estate, next to grandma's stove and in front of the tiled chimney. We all sat there...... to be close to grandma, to watch her cook, to talk to her, to listen to her stories.

That big house in Queens has a memory in every corner, a spirit in every room. It was home to a family....... my grandparents and their ten children.... and a second home to their grandchildren. And now it's sitting empty. Waiting for either the new owners, or for an investor to come and knock it all to the ground and start rebuilding two houses where just one stood proud for 89 years.

My grandfather built that house, brick by brick...... my grandmother told him where to put the windows. She wanted lots of windows, so the house would be very bright.

I started writing about a Halloween party. Now I'm writing about an 89-year-old house of brick and stucco. Maybe it's time to really write. Really, truly write.