On Halloween night I was driving home from work when I passed a little girl who was out trick-or-treating with her mom. She was about six years old and dressed as a Princess. She had a wand in one hand and a pumpkin candy bucket in the other. It was just the two of them.
The sight of this little girl brought me back to another little girl, another Halloween night. My daughter Mel was about the same age when she too dressed as a Princess for Halloween. That night, we visited Ma at my sister’s place where she was staying at the time. Ma was on the doorstep of death by then. She was tired but uncomplaining. As sweet as the candy being given.
I took this picture of Mel and Ma on my sister’s white couch surrounded by a sea of cat pillows. It would be Ma’s last Halloween. A few months later it would be her last Christmas. Last New Year’s. Last everything. She would not see another Valentine’s Day. The Old Man’s Sweet Heart would be gone by then.
The vision of that little Princess released a flood of tears. I longed for Ma. And my own little Princess Mel. I longed for all the little girl Halloweens where we walked the rainy streets while she collected her bucket of treats. All gone.
As I drove down the road, the divine and powerful voice of the beautiful Freddy Mercury filled my truck with We Are The Champions. Yes we are Freddy, I thought. Mel, Ma and me.