Ghost of a HoHo

Who doesn't love a HoHo?  I mean, come on - we can all remember our moms packing them in our lunchboxes, right?  I'd thrill to the rare occasion Mom would add one as a special treat - I can recall tearing open the silvery packet to release the chocolaty-creamy-cakey goodness within.  I have a clear sense memory of tucking into one, and feeling the cool, white filling tickle my tongue, the savory, slightly salty chocolate shell cracking gently with each bite.

Mmmmmmmm..... yummmmmm.... Ho Ho, my dearly beloved childhood treat.

Ever have one recently though?  I mean, as an adult.  Years removed from the Snoopy lunchbox surprise of it all.

Kinda waxy, huh?  Not a true chocolate favor, right?  Overall, pretty much a let-down.

Over the years, our taste buds have changed.  We've developed more sophisticated tastes.  Perhaps the only time we "do" chocolate these days is a square of 85% dark chocolate with sea salt from France.  Or maybe we've gone organic and simply eschew all things that have gone through an extruder or bare the name "snack cake".

But that memory - ain't it grand?  So fully real, even years (or decades) later.

In all truth, we're drawn to the ghost of that Ho Ho.  The memories associated with it, what it represented back then, when our 7-year-old selves reveled in the touch, taste, and smell of a delectable treat in the middle of our grade school day.

I'm writing about HoHo ghosts today because, in the last week or so, I wrestled with some "ghosts" of my own.  But not a happy HoHo ghost.  A ghost that caused night terrors and daymares.  Memories that were so real, so palpable, that, unlike the happy HoHo recollections, sent me into a dismal, dark cave of depression, fear, and loathing (of others and of myself). I was fearing the ghost of something long past.

But a very wise friend told me of her experience revisiting the HoHo world of days gone by - and that metaphor hit me so strongly, it essentially knocked me out of my doldrums and sent me spinning back into the present, where the reality is.  A reality filled with love and hope and truth.

With a glorious, creamy filling all its own.