As someone who is raising their first child, I always get a lot of joy out of having experiences with my daughter that I remembered having when I was a child. Your first piece of chocolate, your first waterslide and even the first time you thought, “Oh man, my mom is really mad at me.” I’ve always had a really good memory and the ability to remember even the most random details from times in my past. Not so coincidentally, I’ve already started to notice that my daughter seems to have the beginnings of that same trait, and so it’s important to me to really soak in those experiences. 

Most recently, that experience was this past Halloween. You see, my daughter is three and a half years old (going on 13), and this was her first Halloween where she got to go trick-or-treating in the neighborhood. Sure, we’ve dressed her up since she was an infant, taken her to local Halloween street walks, let her help hand out candy, but until this year, we hadn’t gone knocking on doors together. 

As Halloween approached, my daughter asked repeatedly, “Is today Halloween? Is it tomorrow? How many more sleeps until it’s here?” While it was a little exhausting to keep hearing the same questions over and over, it reminded me of how great it was to be a little kid – where your biggest worries consisted of things like how many more days until trick-or-treating is here. It also made me reflect on how grateful I am to be a parent, and how awesome it is to see my daughter get to enjoy being a child too.

Halloween was finally upon us when in typical Colorado fashion, a little snowstorm rolls through. Nothing too crazy, but certainly enough to throw a wrench into our plans. Of course, fearing the worst, my daughter asked us if it would be too cold to go trick-or-treating. Her mom and I laughed out loud. She is from Wisconsin, and I grew up in South Dakota, both where “No wimpy storm ever stopped either of us from getting that candy!” 

So, without any trepidation, we went out and faced the elements to get us some candy. Our daughter was nervous at first, but as the doors started to open to smiling faces and big bowls of candy, that nervousness was very short-lived.

As a father, I could only smile as she ran back from each door to show me how much candy she got and to tell me which kind she was going to eat later. Obviously, there will be many more of these but I’ll always remember her first and how proud I was seeing my daughter braving the elements to get that candy.

I hope it was as memorable for her as it was for me.