Halloween queen

If there is a home anywhere in Arkansas (maybe the country) with more Halloween decorations than ours, I’d be, well let’s just say beyond flabbergasted.

We have Jack O’Lanterns, of course, little white rag ghosts hanging from our front yard bushes and trees, an enormous banner proclaiming Happy Halloween to every passerby, and a life-sized ghoul clad in black sitting on the front porch along with little Halloween statues basking in the glow of seasonal orange lights and much more.

The front flower garden is surrounded by at least a dozen little ghostly signs saying “Boo!” stuck in the ground, and even the doorbell is the face of a creepy witch whose forked tongue sticks out to touch one’s hand as soon as it’s rung.

After managing restaurants and bars in Springfield for 30 years (imagine a TGI Fridays) Jeanetta had accumulated enough Halloween and Christmas paraphernalia to annually decorate three such establishments to the walls and ceilings with an attic of stuff in reserve.

Now with each passing season, it all has become part of the spookery on Bunn Drive.

But I haven’t even started to fill you in on what’s behind the four walls where all the ungodly noise and action takes place. We have a crawling zombie baby who slowly makes his way toward you, muttering that he’s “coming to get you.” There’s a giant wreath with a skeleton playing a loud harmonica, a witch cackling something wicked, a butler in a black suit muttering a terrifying greeting, two lifesized skeleton stickups guarding each side of a fireplace covered in ghosts, and my favorite (not), a goat screaming bloody murder at lawn-mower decibels if someone accidentally sets it off. Whew!

I’ll say very available square inch of the walls and tables up and downstairs are decorated in some fashion, set off by lots more of those little orange lights.

We had a gathering the other night where friends brought potluck that I got to watch them enjoy since I remain on a feeding tube (seemingly for the rest of my life). But life is what it is, so I had a good time visiting.

At one point, a wide-eyed female guest walked over and said in obvious amazement: “How long does it take her to do all this inside and out? Two weeks?”

I smiled. “You hit that one on the nose,” I responded. “And it’ll take about that long to get it all packed away and put up for next year.”

Even at that she’ll have to get a move on because once Halloween is done, she’ll be dragging out at least as many Christmas trees and decorations to begin the laborious process of spreading seasonal cheer yet again.

I must admit I have never known anyone, much less a 73-year-old grandmother and mother of four, with as much energy and fascination with Halloween, Christmas and even lesser seasonal observances she feels deserve decorations. I’ve had some men look at me and say, “How do you deal with all this? I couldn’t do it.”

I tell them this is something that clearly brings her great joy. That alone makes me happy. Is it something I would do? Nope, nor she doesn’t expect me to. Decorating is strictly her domain.

But sharing love and a relationship with another means their happiness is as important or more so than your own. So I watch her unpack her joygivers each year (she once told me it feels like greeting old friends she hadn’t seen for a year). I’d be the last person to dampen the anticipation and excitement that brings her.

It also helps to understand her history, just as those in a marriage, or any relationship for that matter, are always wise to do.

Jeanetta was born into a family where a father she can’t remember was murdered when she was very young, and her mother was left with four children she couldn’t keep, so she surrendered them to different relatives. Jeanetta was raised by her aunt and uncle with one brother on a Boone County farm until she reached 18 and moved to Missouri to carve out a future.

She didn’t have a Christmas tree as a child until she broke off a branch from an evergreen one year and stuck it in a pot to create one of her own. It was enough to make her happy. The thought of a 10-year-old little girl sitting beside the makeshift tree remains with me, a person who was more privileged to have parents that brought in and decorated our storebought trees as a family.

So I understand and encourage her desire to enjoy celebrations with hundreds (perhaps thousands) of festive decorations arranged everywhere, so I can see the sparkle in her eyes when she finally gets them all arranged “just so” and sits back smiling to take it all in and await the trick-or-treaters.

Her happiness is what makes me content, and I believe she deserves every last plastic skeleton (soon to be Santa Claus) on the living room table. She is indeed my Halloween queen.

Now go out into the world and treat everyone you meet exactly like you want them to trick or treat you.