At Jernee’s Burial Site. Sunday, May 31, 2026. Photo Collage Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
eight months later, you still visit me as I’m visiting you, and my world has shifted to peacefulness in other forms.
you were my peace. you were my comfort. you were my joy.
although, it is becoming familiar in the void, I’m still breathless without you.
I don’t think the same. I don’t move the same. the woman I am turning into wishes she had your knowing stare in front of her.
but this is grief… I am covered in love I carry in my bones for you—you’re still in every blink of my eyes and every curl of my fingers.
I can feel you in the gaps and pauses of time—you are everywhere and nowhere simultaneously… and on most days, that is a heartbreak I shovel through until my arms give way to the pain sleeping in their veins.
my forever fur baby—you will never know how centered you kept me—how grounded I grew to be in the comfort of your care.
maybe you felt it as you were dying. maybe you smelled it as you watched me take on your independence when it fell from your soul. maybe you sensed the slowness of every step I took around you—cautious of your weathered bones.
I stand in the midst of temporary silence, birds sing a song of which I am lyric-less, and chickens keep watch over hours of land where my heart is buried, and I wonder…
The Center”Peace”. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
unboxing boneless comfort shares significance with an unnamed peace that has settled within me.
what do I call it? how do I explain the change that is growing inside my heart? it feels like honeyed joy and chocolate contentment.
I can taste the newness of self as the pain fades.
am I finally different in the way I have dreamed to be? or is it perimenopause playing tricks on me?
whatever this is, I’ll drown my woes and bury my fears here.
I am different when these cushions palm my back.
Originally published on Substack Notes: *I purchased a boneless sectional sofa recently, and the comfort that comes with this piece of furniture is on a whole new level of “Yes, Gawd!” It’s still the simple things for me.
How a mobile game keeps me alive and wired enough to survive the monotony of most days.
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I’m not a gamer, or am I?
I have a thing for patterns, dangling participles, music that massages my brain, Women of Color with gaps between their two front teeth, and dimples in their cheeks (both sets). And, I make no apologies for any of it. So… it is a rare thing to find me a victim of what most of the younger generations fear—boredom.
Usually, I am equipped to handle it with fictional characters that argue in my head, threatening me for an escape—I provide it for them. Other times, I am escaping through the words of another—a favorite author, lyricist, comedian/enne, or one of my young neighbors/friends.
Suffice it to say, of late, I have been battling boredom, and I think it has managed to gain quite the hold on me. However, upon finding the mobile game Arrow Out (I am not advertising this game; I am simply sharing what a momentary cure for me is), I am soothing what appears to be monotony burnout.
Work is ritualistic. I clock in, put out fires, assist others, make our patients laugh, eat lunch, confirm nearly 100 appointments for the next day, then clock out. What has been satisfying for over two decades for me is slowly losing its spark. I count the hours like I honor every breath I take. When 4:30 PM greets me, I race for the door—eager to see the inside of my home again.
Patterns are my kink—reel me in, wind me up, and push me down. I live for the challenge.
What I have found by playing this game (along with a few others, Solitaire Revelry and Vita Mahjong are runner-ups) is how active my brain is, but when I am focused on any of the above-mentioned, I am calmer. I am at ease. I do not feel pressure on my chest or ringing in my ears. I am tasked with challenges, and my focus is altered to meet or exceed them. Plainly put, I am soothing what my brain has been fighting—absolute boredom, and initially, I did not recognize it.
When I find it hard to roll over from the comfort of one position in my bed to ready myself for an exit away from it, I remind myself that on my lunch break, I can go for a walk or play a couple rounds of one of these mobile games. Walking while listening to music is a life-saver, hands down. Now that I have added stimulating the mind with mobile games, I am sure to defeat boredom.
I don’t want to find myself attached to it—clinging to something that has no intention of saving me from myself. I’ve also noticed that once I’ve cleared a round or several tasks/challenges within the games, I feel more creative. I want to write. I want to read. I want to climb out of the pits I’ve been wading in for months.
And for these facts alone, I am appreciative. What I worry about with these new methods of ridding myself of boredom is… addiction. Am I strong enough to maintain a normal balance with them so as not to let them take over?
We’ll see, won’t we?
Don’t threaten me with a good mobile game time.
I am bound to accept that threat and raise you a higher one—what strength looks like when it’s balanced and groomed to handle battles upon battles and everlasting wars. This world is a dumpster fire laid atop burning coals in the middle of a regularly erupting volcano.
Finding peace within it has been hard, so I’ll take every outlet that I can get. Managing stress, maintaining focus, ridding myself of unattractive habits, and staying afloat when drowning seems all too easy to do is the playground where I currently reside—it is the lifeline.
If you’re searching for me, I’ve probably got my head in a book, a notebook, or bent over my mobile phone.
Zumi Tye requests to have “outside time” more now that she’s getting older.
Zumi Tye is on quite the adventure. Monday, May 25, 2026. Video Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
For those of you who are new here, Zumi Tye is my two-year-old Red-Footed Tortoise. She’s getting bigger, and with that, comes a huge personality shining through.
Now that we’re without Jernee Timid (my seventeen-year-old Chorkie that we laid to rest last September), she’s taking over our home, and claiming it as her own.
I have to say, I’m definitely NOT mad at this! I welcome her growth and curiosity. She keeps me entertained.
A Cornered Gurl 
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