little precious one
stops to admire the scene
first day of summer
a cool breeze greets us
the air isn’t too dry yet
we pause for effect
it’s how we pass time
taking cautious steps toward
rolling hills of green
©2022 Tremaine L. Loadholt Originally published on Simily.
I wake up when my left leg
starts to ache, the shift
from night to morning takes
no time. I feel the sun before
it even peeks through my curtains.
Rainy days offer me tension
and tightness from an
old injury, and I stretch and stretch
and stretch until I feel loose.
The dog pats away at her crate,
ready to be released.
I slip out of bed,
slip into some “for people
who’ll see me” clothes,
wash my face, drink a
bottled water, and harness the
dog for our morning walk.
We brave whatever nonsense
stands before us willingly at
an early hour. We are no
strangers to strangeness, yet
nothing comes that is
out of the ordinary, at least,
on most days.
But we’re ready just in case.
Twenty minutes later, we are
rejuvenated and awake enough
to think coherently.
I feed her, take a shower, eat
breakfast, drink 8oz of water
or almond milk or orange juice,
and brush my teeth.
With my body full and my
mind ready, I endure a workday
or a Saturday or Sunday
full of more of the same or
is it more of the sane?
Time will tell, it always does.
Originally published via Simily on May 22, 2022.
The dog and I walk our path just as we do each morning–the gift of sun and a slight breeze await us. We breathe in the fresh air and breathe out the peace of another day beginning. In this part of the South, Spring greets us just as she should, but she has on her wings a thick strip of pollen to sprinkle everywhere as she sashays by.
I am an allergy sufferer–one of 50 million in the United States. The culprits? Pollen and shellfish (when not eaten in moderation). As much as I love to feel the sun’s rays beam down on my skin, during the spring months, I suffer the worst. The dog–also not too keen on pollen, does her share of sneezing and coughing. While I take a Claritin-D every morning, I also do nasal spray, and eye drops, and I sometimes have to take two Benadryl at night if the pollen count has been extremely high during that day.
I’m no stranger to Spring’s many gifts and I appreciate life awakening from the dead when she comes around. She lends us the beauty of sunny and longer days, the peace that can be found in birdsong, the cheerful laughter of children’s voices, beautiful blooms on trees and bushes, and wearing less clothing because of warmer temperatures.
But she can be vindictive, too.
It comes at a high cost when you’re an allergy sufferer. Spring can be your best friend or your worst enemy. I try to find the beauty in her without slashing away at her for the many days I struggle to breathe. I try to focus on the positive rather than the negative. I love the newness that surrounds me when she makes an entrance.
At least I know, I’ll garner more photos to look back on when I need a quick pick-me-up.
Spring–dawn’s gift to us
comes at a high cost sometimes
yet we welcome her.
Originally published via Simily.
Friday is most often my favorite day of the week, but today, this Friday feels special. I woke up long before the cock of the crow–body clock had its own plans. There was a light mist in the air before the impending rain. A short walk with the dog presented a sense of presence–a sense of #relief.
I could feel it deep down in my bones–today is truly going to be a great day. I say so. I’ll make it so.
May Friday grant you whatever you may need today. I am claiming my happiness–I wish the same for you, too.
Originally shared via LinkedIn.
*The last five days have been the break I needed. Sometimes it’s best to step away from everything and feel EVERYTHING while it’s fresh and painful. I allowed myself the chance to move through the weight of bad news and still grieve without shame–without harming myself or others. A breath of fresh air is often more than simply inhaling the gifts around us. Thank you everyone for your kind words, thoughts, prayers, emails, etc. This is such an awesome community, and I’m grateful for it.
The #dog sleeps soundly on a Saturday night, dreaming about God only knows what. My neighbor pulls up to our building–blasts his music for us to hear. I’m not opposed, it’s a tune I can bop my head to.
I spent a couple hours video-chatting with my younger cousin and watching her beautiful smile act as its own form of luminescence. There was no other place I wanted to be than in that moment, #connecting with her about the mundane acts of life–laughing about the calamities found in aging and ailments.
We discuss the inevitability of my little monster’s impending demise, and if I’ll get another dog immediately after or opt to get one soon so as to have another form of support on standby. Of course, I’ll get another dog. But I want her to enjoy her life being the spoiled, “only child” until she’s no more.
Oddly enough, I look at this adorable ball of fur, and all I feel is love. All I feel IS loved.
That is a beautiful thing.
Originally shared via LinkedIn.
**Since Chrissy’s passing, her children have reached out to me for deeper, closer relationships, and I needed this. I’d always been around for their growth–but their mom had my full and complete attention. They would get the occasional text or phone call. Now, it’s almost as if I’ve gained two more younger siblings, but it is Victoria with whom I sense a stronger bond will emerge. I see so much of Chrissy in her and she sees so much of her mom in me too. It is simply a joy to share these moments with them–with her. We are making beautiful memories. Beautiful memories, indeed.
A Cornered Gurl 
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