Halloween was always my favorite holiday. I could tell my family thought I was strange. They couldn’t understand how it could be better than Christmas, but it just was. The candles, the pumpkins, the witches, the creativity. Oh, I love the creativity of Halloween!

 As a mom, I was blessed with two very creative children, which meant years of fantastic Halloween costumes and fun. My youngest, who loves to pretend more than any human I have ever met, was always one of those kids who took Halloween to the next level. Thankfully, by the time he was getting creative with costumes, I could sew fairly well, and I made everything from video game character costumes to a plague doctor cape to full mage robes.

 This year, for the first time since I was 23 years old (my children have huge gaps in ages), I did not take someone trick-or-treating. There was a part of me that was more than a little melancholy about this. I mostly missed the costume work. My son would start planning his costume in July, and we would often spend all of October bringing his vision to life. It was hard to give that up.

 Still, I realized on Halloween night that moving to this new stage of my life was a little bit perfect. It was time for me to celebrate this night in a way that felt right for me, as an individual, and I am grateful to have started my journey into learning to be a witch just in time to celebrate my first Samhain.

 My teacher gave me an overview of Samhain, its significance, and then gave me the instructions: She told me how to cleanse a space to be an alter; she told me about how to use candles and items from my loved ones; and she gave me some beautiful words to say. Normally, I would feel nervous about trying new things. I’m a worrier in my bones and struggle with anxiety, but I didn’t feel anxious about doing things “right” or “wrong.” I just felt like I would do my best and that the important thing was to be in a good state of mind. As a teacher myself, I know my lack of anxiety is a sign I have a good teacher.

 I also told myself to try to not have too many expectations. After all, I have much to learn, and after all, I figured I could keep trying. I mean, the whole point of my journey is that I want to learn how to live more connectedly to the things I can’t see but know are there. This takes time, I imagine. I felt patient. I still do.

 My husband is one of the most empathetic humans I know and has a history of being able to connect to the spirit world, always on accident, but I have seen him know things he could not know, only to find out later they were correct. So, I asked him to be with me for my first Samhain ritual. He seemed hesitant. “I don’t want to mess up your energy,” he said.

 “You won’t,” I said. “Plus, I need yours.”

 He sat with me, and I lit candles and said the words. I wanted to connect with two animals I have lost in the last year. I was very, very close to both of them, and their losses, especially the loss of my farm dog last year, shook me to my core. My farm dog, Gus, was one of those souls who just understood and loved me so completely. We lost him very young to lymphoma. I couldn’t believe the physical pain when he passed. I work at home and am a homebody in my nature anyway. Gus and I spent our days and nights together. I was his, and he was mine. The hole he left behind felt epic.

 The other soul I wanted to connect with was my cat. I am allergic to cats, so she was my first kitty. Her name was Sophie, and I lost her just last month after years of health struggles. She was very old, but when she left me, I felt so lost. I always deeply love my teachers, and she was my kitty teacher. I had been feeling her some around the house, thinking maybe I had seen her. I wanted to connect with her, to tell her how thankful I am to her. When she passed, I kept telling her to “find me, find me.” I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like maybe she did.

 I started with Gus. I lit his candle and spoke to him. After I spoke, I just felt the urge to sit in the quiet for a long time, just to see if I might feel something. Of course, I didn’t know what to expect, but I figured I would know if I felt something. I am sad to report I didn’t feel anything.  This is going to sound strange (and I hope I didn’t jinx myself), but I somehow didn’t think I would feel my Gus. I have felt him in the past, but I haven’t in a while. However, I had hopes for my Sophie.

 I lit her candle and started to talk with her, and then, my husband joined in. And soon, in the candlelight on our giant deck under the Maine trees, we were telling stories about Sophie. I have always been drawn to stories, unusually so. I am mesmerized by people’s stories. I wish we all told more of them.

 We told story after story about Sophie, and then I started to feel such a pain in my chest and such a powerful feeling in my body. It was like we cast a spell with our stories, and Sophie was with us. I heard noises from the woods where she is buried, which is near to where we were sitting. It sounded like deer, but they were right where her grave is, which is not usually where the deer hang out. Somehow, it just made me feel like Sophie was with me.

 Tears were streaming down my face, and then, the pain in chest became so strong I felt a need to pull myself out of whatever I was experiencing. I told Sophie I missed her and asked her to please give me a sign when she is near me.

 I am not sure what all of that meant, but I am sure I felt my Sophie. That seems like a good start for my first Samhain. The whole experience made me feel like I am on the right path, that there is hope I can learn how to connect, to experience, to feel a different kind of truth in the world than the one I have been taught my whole life to believe.

 Crystal Sands