#676: End/Beginning (of an era)

on November 2, 2026

Happy Halloween-ish!! If you celebrate, I hope you had a good time!

This year marks the first year that Momo went trick-of-treating without us. For the first time in thirteen years, and the first time of the rest of our lives, our nights took different paths. It’s #156 coming back to haunt me, now that yet another season of my life is over.

I remember every year so clearly: carrying her around in a tiger onesie at only two months old; every lovingly thrifted costume – and also, the year she wanted to be an astronaut so I ordered one express at an absolutely astronomical price; the dog pajamas bought in a panic the night before the kindergarten parade; the many layers and colors of tutus; the goose-honking harmonica mask; how last time we went I knew in my heart it would be the last time.

There were so many things to tell her. There’s still so many things to tell her!! I’m grateful she still listens. Take a flashlight. Stick together. Don’t get in cars. Look out for cars. Watch your step. Stay warm. Say thank you. Leave the decorations alone. Don’t enter anyone’s house. Don’t have any business with firecrackers. Call me if you need me. Call me if you need me. Please, please, please, call me, for any reason, I will always come – I need you to look in my eyes and really, really hear me – I will always come.

And then we stayed home. She got lost and she used her phone to find her friend’s house again. She got cold. The world didn’t end. Hers got so, so much bigger. But mine got a little smaller, just a little. Just a tiny, little, small little bit.

Halloween is a time when memories feels close to the surface. Thirteen well-worn, dog-eared memories in my heart, and proud tears as I watch her walking away with an excited smile on her face for all the things she has yet to see.

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TRANSCRIPT

One panel, no text or dialogue. Momo, in the foreground, smiles and looks back at a friend. They’re both dressed in Halloween costumes. Behind them, Lindsay and Kev are looking down on them from the second storey, backlit in a window.