In the Space Between Worry & Strength

Wednesday, October 29, 2025

Up by 5:30 this morning, I pulled my tarot and drew The Plague Doctor — a card about preparation and protection. Safety precautions. It makes more and more sense the closer we get to November. I have been putting safeguards in place. I just pray it never comes to needing them.

I did get all the peacocks ready.

Today was an off day all around. The boys barely slept last night and stayed home from school, and by evening Shelly wasn’t feeling well enough to go trunk-or-treating, so they didn’t join us either.

Franklin showing the girls the fountain at work

Still, we tried to bring some cheer to the night. We drove up to Franklin’s work for their trunk-or-treat, but quickly learned that “spooky” is not our girls’ thing. The event didn't look scary from the outside, but once inside, it was a different story. Aria attached herself to Franklin like a koala, and Persephone squeezed the life out of Charlie's ribs holding onto him. Franklin felt awful, but he had no way of knowing — and the moment we could, we slipped out with two very overwhelmed little girls.

The girls infront of the fountain.

From there we headed back toward home and visited mom and dad’s church trunk-or-treat and then the event at Valley View. Both were much more the girls’ speed — warm, friendly, not frightening. Franklin walked with us through the first one before heading home, and we finished the night at Valley View with calmer spirits and full candy buckets.

When we finally made it home, Dameion had already finished everything for the night and was off to Shelly’s. Move-in day for her here is supposed to be Friday, but with the storms that just rolled through and wiring issues suddenly popping up, I’m hoping we won’t have to push it back.

Up at mom and dads church

While Charlie and Franklin sorted candy, I tried to pull myself back mentally. The world feels heavy right now — heavier than usual — and there’s a strange numbness sitting in me. I’m here, but not here. Watching everything, feeling almost nothing, because fear isn’t an option when you’re responsible for little ones.

Sometimes survival mode looks like strength.

Sometimes it looks like quiet numbness.

Either way, we keep moving.