H a p p y HaLlOwEeN.

Halloween. I love Halloween. Always have, always will.

Each year Halloween is different, yet it's always the same.

I always stress out until the last minute on what to dress up as...I can never decide. And that is no exaggeration. I swear! Last year, I was 4 different things- if those of you who were there can remember correctly.

I never know my exact plans for the night until the day of, if not night of.

I never have control on the amount of candy I eat. Or even what the candy is.

I'm pretty sure my brain just processes Halloween as follows...

"Halloween. Candy. Unwrap. Chew. Swallow. Repeat."

Because I honestly feel like a child who has never seen tootsie rolls or never tasted the peanut buttery flakes of a butterfinger. However, I have. Millions of times. But especially on Halloween.... or the entire week before and after Halloween.

And I have always loved Halloween parties. Yet, I have never thrown one myself. Ever. Always wanted to, but never had the courage to. Okay I know it's not like singing a solo or making a speech, but it is still scary!

What if it's not fun? What if no one comes? What if people come but don't dress up? What if I'm too old to have a Halloween party?

I mean Halloween parties are so cliché. How many times have you gotten an invitation or heard of a Halloween party? Hundreds of times. And how many of those hundreds of invites have you actually attended? Half? If you're lucky?

Now, don't take this the wrong way. You heard what I said- I have always loved Halloween parties. But throwing one myself? Too risky. Because I have been on the other end when you brush it off your shoulder like a piece of lint. You don't even think twice about going.

Okay. Now. I'm going to tie this all together I promise.

I said I love Halloween parties. And, if you remember I also said that each year Halloween is different, but in some way, always the same. That goes for this year as well, of course. My Halloween was different- different costume, different people, different activities. But it was the same as well. I did go to a Halloween party. And it was just like the others I have been to before. Read the invitation- hand-made, using the same "spooky" Halloween phrases we've all heard a hundred times.

But here's the twist.

Drum roll please...

....

...

..

That Halloween party..

...was....

mine.

Woah. What? Yes, I said it. And it's true. I actually hosted a Halloween party. And it was fantastic!

I made invitations and passed them out to my neighbors.

Then Mary (lifelong best friend and neighbor) and I got to work. We hung spider webs from every corner in my neighbors house.

(That's the small glitch...our apartment was too small to hold everyone so we used to neighbor's as a host)

We lit candles crawling with bugs and placed them in eerie places.

We got lamps and lit them so the lighting was dim.

We covered the counter in a festive Halloween tablecloth. And got candy.

We turned on a scary movie to play in the background that sent chills up and down your spine.

We made homemade broccoli and cheese soup from scratch and poured it into fresh bread bowls.

We poured apple juice with dry ice to make smoking witch's brew.

And then...the party began. We ate dinner.

We carved pumpkins while listening to Halloween music.

We ate candy, watched a movie, told stories, and took pictures. And everyone came!

And that right there was enough to say I had a successful Halloween. But the weekend continued with a Halloween dance, games, and so much more.

I had a spooktacular Halloween weekend...

....did you?

"You dust be happy"

This sunday I took a drive. With my nephew. To the airport.

And on the way, we talked. About everything.

About if we were on the fast road. And where the planes go when they land.

And why they can't drive on the road with the cars. And why a runway is called a runway.

And why we couldn't bring his new stuffed dog Abby with us.

And then we talked about something else, something that stuck in my mind. Something that his little 4 year old mind thought was so simple. And made perfect sense.

Something that matters.

We were talking just like we had been seconds before. He'd ask me questions, I'd answer, and visa versa.

It was quiet for a few seconds and then I broke the silence.

"Noah?"

"What Wach?"

"Have you ever missed someone before?"

"What?"

"Have you ever missed someone before? Like your mom or your dad or grandma?"

"Yeah."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Scawed. And it makes me feew wike I wanna cwy. Cuz it makes me feew sad."

"So how do you make it feel better?"

"You dust be happy. And den when you see em again, you dust feew happy and you dont feew scawed anymo."

A short conversation. No more than 30 maybe 40 seconds. Insignificant? Maybe to you. But to me that was just what I needed to hear.

And coming from a child, it seemed so simple.

Being without family or friends can be hard. Whether you live 10 hours away or 10 minutes away, it is hard.

Whether it's your mom or dad, your siblings, or your "significant other" it is hard.

Maybe you are a mother who misses her child everyday when they go to school.

Maybe you are a sister that misses her brother every time she needs a laugh.

Maybe you are a son who misses his dad every time he goes fishing.

Maybe you are wife who misses her husband every time he walks out the door for work.

Or maybe you are a 4 year old who misses his mom after her long trip to Hawaii.

Regardless of who you are, or who you miss, this lesson is for everyone.

Noah said it perfectly.

You do feel scared, and sad, and you might even feel like crying.

But he also said something we too often forget. The perfect solution.

When there is nothing else you can do,

"You dust be happy."

And when you see them again, you will feel happy, and you won't feel scared anymore.

Just like Noah.

Because It's Fall

I always thought I loved fall. The brilliant yellows, oranges, reds, and greens of the trees alwaysamazed me. The brisk air against my cheeks and the chill of the wind as it rustled the dancing leaves was always so refreshing.

But fall this year is so different. It feels like my first fall ever.

...And in a way, it is.

It's my first fall in Logan. And I love it.

Why? Well...besides this...

1) I love getting dressed.

2) I love making breakfast.

3) I love walking in the cold.

4) I love how it gets dark so quickly.

5) I love the dead leaves, and the box elder bugs...

Woah. What? Did I really just say all that? Why would anyone ever love walking in the cold, or watching the sun vanish that early, or seeing the ugly brown leaves on the ground? Let me explain before you discount me as completely crazy.

1) I love wearing warm, high socks with my pant legs safely tucked in around them as I pull my boots on. I love tying my scarves and slipping my arms in a long sleeved shirt. I love doing up every button on my coat. I love feeling warm even when it's so cold.

Because it's fall.

2) I love pulling a sweatshirt over my head and wrapping my blanket around me as I walk up to the kitchen. I love how quiet the house is when I begin my morning routine. I love howwarm my body feels as fresh hot chocolate slides down my throat. I love that it warms my whole body. I love hearing the eggs crackle as they cook on the frying pan. Or the cerealcrunch with every bite. I love that I can hear that.

Because it's fall.

3) I love when my face is greeted with the harsh, cold fall breeze because it makes the warm feel so much better. I love how clean and fresh the air feels as it blows against my cheeks and through my hair. I love when I can see my breath.

Because it's fall.

4) I love when the sun has finally set and it's time to turn on the porch light. Of my house. I love when it's darker outside than in, because I love seeing the temple glowing blocks away from me. I love when it's dark, because that means it is cold. Which means I can turn on my fire. I love my fireplace. I love sitting in front of it and feeling the heat melt my frozen toes all the way up to my frozen nose. I love lighting the candles.

Because it's fall.

5) I love listening to the crunch of the dead leaves under my feet as I walk to class. It makes me feel like a little girl again, and I love that.

I love the box elder bugs all over my door because....

...........oh wait. I lied.

I don't love the box elder bugs on my porch, my door, my floor, my backpack, even my arm in class.....but they are there.

Because it's fall.

But most of all I love my mom. Because it's fall. And my mom loves fall. She cherishes every moment she gets to spend outside, watching the leaves change from green all the way to brown where they then are crunching under her feet.

I think that's where I got it. I've never been away from home during fall, so I've never really noticed how much I love it. Or how much of that love is shared by my mom.

Until now.

Because when I walk into my house, I often think of my home. My real home. Where my mom is. Putting on her red scarf, and buttoning every button on her black coat. Where she mixes her drink (even if it is reliv and not hot chocolate...), and sits in her quiet house. And when I feel the cold breeze against my cheeks and feel it ruffle my hair, I think of her. When she runs. How much she loves that too. Or how she often walks where the leaves have fallen because she loves listening to them crunch under her feet, just like I do.

Because it's fall.

And because she is my mom. And I am her daughter.

And sometimes I am like her.

And that is why I love fall. Because I will always, always want to be like her.

Sunshine after the Rain.

Sometimes it rains.

And there is nothing we can do to stop it.

Sometimes we wish it would never end.

Others we wish it would have never begun.

But regardless of what we wish,

it falls.

...and falls.

.....and falls.

Rain is refreshing. It's soothing. It cleans.

Yet it's cold, and in it's presence the world around you is covered in a melancholy blanket.

And sometimes all you want to do is sit and watch it fall, listen to it pitter and patter against the roof, the sidewalk, the drain pipes.

At least I do.

And this week, I did.

Tuesday.

Wednesday.

...and Thursday.

Tuesday I walked slowly toward a beautiful white house, letting the rain splash my shoes and wet my hair. Tuesday I didn't mind. Because Tuesday was a day I needed the rain.

Yet it was the rain I wish would have never begun.

Because Tuesday was a night filled with the pain of goodbye.

The fear of the unknown.

The mystery of what to do next.

And Tuesday as I left that beautiful white house, I let the rain fall.

And clean. And soothe.

I let it blend with my tears, and felt that melancholy blanket wrap tightly around me. And Tuesday rain let me know I was not alone. I was surrounded by friends feeling the same pain, the same fear. And no matter how far we drove from each other, the rain was still there.

With each of us listening.

As it fell.

...and fell

....and fell.

Wednesday rain was different. Wednesday rain began with sun. The sun was gleaming, and the sidewalk even felt warm under my bare feet as I ran to the mailbox.

Inside was a surprise.

A heartfelt surprise that made me smile. Made happiness flood through my whole body. And as my eyes rapidly read every word spilled on that page, I realized the rain wasn't done falling. But that inbetween it's dreadful bouts, there was sunshine.

And I needed to embrace that fact.

So I did. With my mom by my side we drove in the sunshine, to a place that always makes me happy.

My sister's house.

And in spending the afternoon with my grandma, my mom, my sister, and my niece, I realized that this was the sunshine between the bouts of rain.

And that even though we had to leave the small bakery and venture back into the rain, the sunshine still followed. And that no matter how hard the rain beat against the windshield, I was safe inside the warm car- surrounded by people who love me.

But that's not all.

The coolest part is yet to come.

Later, as my sister and I drove through the rain again, the sun beamed through the clouds creating the biggest, most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen.

It covered the entire sky, and was glowing as bright as the sun.

And right beside it, was another one. More faint, and only half visible, yet it was still there.

And in that moment i felt like someone else was watching and wanted me to know there really is sunshine after the rain.

That the dark, cold rain really does bring something truly beautiful. Something that fills you with hope.

You just have to be willing to wait for it.

So when Thursday rain came, I welcomed it. I didn't want it to end.

Because it gave me hope.

Yes it was raining.

Again.

For the third day in a row.

During a week that has been hard. And hurts.

But this time, I knew that no matter how long it rained, or in essence how bad life can hurt, there is something beautiful that will follow.

And that is why Thursday rain brought me hope.

And for the first time in 3 days, the rain made me happy.

Because I have confidence that through the toughest of life's rainstorms, there is always one thing that guarantees the sunshine.

And that is hope.

And I hope as you enter into your own rainstorms, maybe even floods or hurricanes, you too will never lose hope.

Because I promise there will be sunshine.