Fantasmagorical!

Today, I am thankful for days like yesterday!

I woke up WAY too early ~ about 2:45 am. I was a little excited about All Children's Hospital's 5th Annual Radiothon. I may have napped for another 30 to 40 minutes between then and when the alarm went off at 6 am, but then I hit the floor running!

I was fine at Radiothon until I listened to Oliver's story. Oliver is a friend of mine with OI (Osteogenesis Imperfecta) or Brittle Bone disease. He is three years old and has had numerous leg breaks and surgeries. He is also one of the cutest, sweetest, and most darling little boys you'd ever want to meet! Shortly after hearing his story, with a lump in my throat and tears welling, my buddy Ann delivered an email about a mom whose daughter has the same disease my son has. That was all it took. The tears were freely flowing. Thank goodness the phone rang and I could focus on the task at hand . . . except . . . As I thanked the caller and was hanging up, he asked if he could leave a message on his donation. I told him, "Of course you can!" He then said, "Tell Oliver to stay strong and keep up the fight." And I was over the edge. It was at that very moment that Stephanie grabbed me to go have Mike Alstott sign my Radiothon shirt for my son. Oh joy! I get to meet Mike Alstott looking like a slobbery mess. Mike happily and eagerly signed the shirt and we were chatting a little bit when Stephanie reappeared with a camera man for a photo opp. Super! The picture actually turned out rather nice! And in hugging my Ann Miller goodbye, after a rather emotionally draining shift, I just couldn't turn off the waterworks. There is just something so genuine and loving and caring about this woman. It's like she's the sister I never knew growing up. She's the best friend I SHOULD have met thirty years ago but am thrilled to have crossed paths with when I did. She oozes such compassion and love and friendship and comfort. She gets me. It was a truly magical morning!

Then off to visit my daughter for a brief moment. She wants to decorate her apartment but times are tough. So, mom brought Christmas for her. I did a little grocery shopping, got a pine-scented candle, and picked out a northern pine Christmas Tree to help make her home festive. She cried. I cried some more. It was very tiring . . . and very worth it! She decorated the tree with sand dollars she was given from her recently passed grandma/grandfather's house. It's beautiful . . . like her!

Then home to eat because I was starving! I run into my son who is just waking up at near noon! He VERY much loves his Radiothon treat! I am thrilled to offer him this little goody. He's a fantastic young man! No crying here - except in the retelling of the story of the morning!

And then . . . hubby is off! What a special bonus! We spent the rest of the day Christmas shopping and having dinner out on the town. There was laughter and hand holding and walking in quiet wonder looking at Christmas lights and store fronts. What a beautifully magnificent day.

I am thankful for days like yesterday. It was fantasmagorical!

Crocodile or not

Today, I am thankful for tears!

Tears come for all sorts of reasons.

The obvious reason like when you stub your toe in the middle of the night and whilst hopping around you fall over your dog. Yup . . . that'll do it!

The pain of loss - a loved one, a pet, a friend, a job, or your trust.

Misunderstandings - which are one of the worst, because this is completely avoidable!

Chick-flicks - these sometimes will even drag the old salt sacks from the manliest of men!

Hallmark commercials - tugging the old heartstrings all the time. (Or is that just me?)

And then . . . there are happy tears, too!

Jubilation - the proposal, big news, and births!

Pride - when, perhaps, your children exceed your expectations. I've cried many of those!

Admiration - in the realm of respecting veterans and things of that nature.

Love - when the power of a simple sentiment so overwhelms you, that you are moved to leak!

Tears are cleansing and empowering all at the same time. They do not show weakness or lack of character. Quite the opposite. They show strength in one's ability to emit emotion and the fortitude to truly be who you are!

My name is Lynette Carol Rider Marinello and I am a crier! There is no twelve-step program for recovery. I don't WANT to recover. I enjoy having a heart and emotion and a soul. I expose them freely. I cry over silly things and meaningful things.

I cry because I care!

The best medicine

I am thankful for laughter!

The great, big, guffawing belly laugh after a great joke, or video, or escapade.
The non-stop giggles after you've done something completely stupid and you just can't stop laughing at yourself.
The snort laugh because you simply cannot catch your breath.
The crying laugh from pure anxiety or pure euphoria.
The nervous laugh brought on by insecurities, but a great ice-breaker.
The cackle laugh . . . which really kind of frightens me.
And my absolutely favorite . . .
The laughter of babies and children!

It is just the purest form of innocence out there and if those cuddle-worthy chuckles don't create a happy place in your heart . . . you're in desperate need of therapy!

Today . . . I am thankful for laughter.
Get out there . . . chuckle, guffaw, snort, cry, cackle, giggle, or just enjoy the laughter of others.
It does a body good!

Hands

As I laid in bed this morning, I was hoping for a little inspiration for my daily blog. It was then that my hubby reached over, I thought he was sleeping, and grabbed my hand. With fingers intertwined, he said, "I like when you're here."

OK . . . so . . .

I am thankful for hands!

There are working hands . . . those that get dirty and grimy and calloused and gnarled. Those hands that know they've put in a hard day's work and have not been idle.

There are shaking hands . . . the good, sturdy, manly handshakes! Not those dead fish, girly soft handshakes. I'm talking about the ones that convey your word, your ability, and your service.

There are talented hands . . . those hands that work magic with a paint brush, a keyboard, an instrument, a camera, a blank canvas. The hands that create meaningful beauty to share with others.

There are emotional hands . . . the hands that are used to ooze the emotions of the heart. The writer's hands, the poet's hands, the screen writer's hands, the lyricist's hands.

There are caring hands . . . those hands that belong to those gifted angels we call nurses and doctors and caregivers. The hands that work the miracles of health and healing.

There are the loving hands . . . the hands of the parent. The hands that cradle the infant, coddle the toddler, encourage the child, guide the adolescent, support the young adult, and are a constant in the lives of their child.

There are the praying hands . . . the hands that have learned to let go of the steering wheel and leave it to a higher source. The hands that are strong enough to ask for help, to implore proper guidance, and a servant's humbleness.

There are helping hands . . . those hands that disregard their own wants and desires and do the right thing by others. They offer themselves without hesitation. They exist to provide for others.

And there are the holding hands . . . like this morning! The hands that convey the words that need not be spoken. The intertwining of fingers that symbolize the intertwining of so very much more.

I am thankful for all those hands!

Thankful for Dreams . . .

Yesterday's post was in regard to All Children's Hospital. Today, I am sharing my thanks for The Children's Dream Fund. The CDF is very much like Make-A-Wish only it is focused primarily on central Florida. They grant dreams to critically and terminally ill children. They have stolen my heart!

On Miles' very first hospital stay for an infusion, we were visited by a representative from the Children's Dream Fund. They had been directed to us through the hospital, I believe (another kudos to them!). The representative told Miles - she spoke to him (not me!) - that whatever his little heart could dream up, they would work as hard as they could to make it come true. They offered him examples of past dreams granted: new computers, shopping sprees, giant playsets, trips to anywhere, cruises, meeting celebrities, a new bike, anything!

So, Miles politely asked if he could think about it. She immediately smiled and told him, "Of course." I'll come see you again on your next hospital visit."

What you need to know is that Miles' particular disease kept him very immobile. Not out of choice, but it attacked his muscles leaving him very, very weak. When we had been getting steroid infusions at the outpatient center, he had very few options to keep himself entertained. There was a plethora of movies, but it was viewed by everyone, so the choice needed to be mutual. He could do homework. Ew! Or . . . he could read. He chose the latter.

When we again visited ACH, the representative came - as she promised. She asked Miles if he had come up with a dream and if it was HIS dream alone. He replied, "Yes!" I really had no idea what he had come up. She asked to know what he wanted and he said, quite matter-of-factly, "I would like my own library!" The Children's Dream Fund rep just absolutely beamed. This was a new one for her!

Just a few short weeks later, after Miles designed his bookshelf along with laminate colors and even getting to make a wishlist of books, we were blessed with a visit by the CDF fairy! He received a beautiful bookshelf, 5' tall and 8' long, built by Ruhl Entertprises, funded by The Palm Harbor Junior Women's Club and filled by Barnes and Noble. It was an extraordinary gift which allowed Miles to escape into whatever story he was reading and away from treatments, poking, prodding, and infusions. What a gift these Dream Fund folks are.

We are privileged to call them friends and we've been so touched we've given back to them on many occasions to pay-it-forward to help other sick children. Should you be looking for a charity or a way to really impact a life . . . go to www.childrensdreamfund.org and find out ways that you can make dreams come true.

We are thankful for The Children's Dream Fund! VERY MUCH SO!

Thankful? Quite!

About twelve years ago, my son was in the third grade. He was a very typical, crazy eight year old busy with school, friends, and after school activities. He liked taekwondo and basketball and swimming and football and budweiser commercials! For Christmas he received a basketball hoop for the driveway. We had to literally drag him inside for dinner. Day two . . . the shots were not very active and he seemed rather lethargic. Day three . . . we couldn't even get him to go outside. Day four . . . after laying on the floor to watch cartoons, he could not get back on his feet without pulling himself up on the coffee table. My 'Miles-a-minute' was miles from well.

Enter All Children's Hospital. After two months of misdiagnoses by our pediatrician, we were sent to All Children's Hospital. They knew immediately what was wrong with him and suggested a very aggressive treatment plan. He was diagnosed with dermatomyositis, an auto-immune disease where the body attacks its own muscles thinking them to be a virus. This is life-threatening and just a tad scary. All Children's Hospital to the rescue!

Treatment was frightening. Infusions. Shots. Poking. Prodding. And all of it FREQUENTLY! The hospital, however, made everything understandable to the entire family. They took great effort to ensure that all of us, including big sister, were included in treatment, decisions, and activities. We made life-long friends in that facility: Norma, Rosemary, Dr. Jones, Dr. Nickeson, Ann, Bill, Joel, Gary, Avril, Stephanie, Leslie, Michelle, DiDi, and many others. We would not have survived without them. And we continue to thrive because of the them.

Fast-forward nearly four years, Miles is much healthier. We planned a family cruise to celebrate. It was on that cruise that we notice Deanna, my daughter, was a tad bit crooked. Oy! Off the boat and back to All Children's Hospital. She was diagnosed with moderate, nearing ugly, scoliosis. This was a little scary as we all knew my niece had had two steel rods placed in her back to correct her scoliosis. Through All Children's guidance and tenacity, Deanna was spared surgery. She did have to wear a full-torso, hard plastic brace for nearly a year, but we were able to fend off excessive measures. No one would know, today, that she's crooked just by looking at her. She's absolutely stunning! And that is owed, in no small part, to All Children's Hospital.

I realize I'm a little gung ho about the facility. I'm certain that there are other fabulous children's hospitals out there, but . . . I can only speak to All Children's abilities to treat, not only the patient, but the entire family. We are better folks for having endured nearly seven years of interacting with them medically and we are exponentially blessed to continue to include them in our circle of friends!

I am MORE than thankful for All Children's Hospital. I hope you never need them, but know that if you end up there . . . you're in incredible hands! Thank you!

Thankful for Heroes

Today, I am thankful for heroes!

Yes, of course, I'm talking about Superman and Batman and the Lone Ranger and heroes like that. Those characters are who shapes our littlest of minds to want to do the right thing.

And yes, of course, I'm talking about Policemen and Firefighters and EMT's and folks like that. Those folks who probably watched a lot of Superman and Batman and the Lone Ranger as children. These folks give selflessly and continually and the good ones continue to do so, long after their shifts are over or they have hung up their badges, boots, and fancy rides.

However, the heroes that truly impact us, are the ones we meet each day!

My mom - who raised so many children, started successful businesses, helped so many, and loved to play while doing it all. My gymnastics coach as a youngen, who managed to deal with a myriad of teenage girls and their hormones and still created a very successful team. More than that, she helped to mold very successful people. My old trig teacher, who squeaked me through the final to graduate, but also became a friend and a confidant whom I treasured seeing every day and still communicate with. My English/Humanities teacher who played ball with my brother and my boyfriend and would let me leave class early when the boyfriend showed up outside the window. He let me experience a little freedom, but more importantly, he allowed me the freedom to grow as a writer. My 8th grade reading teacher whose class consisted of 'read a book, write a paper'. It was there that I fell in love with reading and even though we trashed your car, you still loved us and encouraged us to read, read, read!

How about those few sports stars that I've had the privilege of meeting who do such wonderful things for the community? Not because they are obligated, but because they are emotionally moved and driven to do so. Fund hospital wings. Fund dreams and wishes. Fund scholarships and the future hopes of high schoolers. Acknowledge good deeds and good samaritans.

Or how about those folks who rise above their obstacles. Handicaps and disabilities are just another bad hair day for them as they strive to achieve what any other person wants to achieve. There's no complaining. Only tenacity. Determination. They inspire and ignite those around them to simply be better people.

And my favorite heroes, of course, are my husband and my children. I am in awe of what they do, what they overcome, and what they dream. I am better because of them. I am driven by their persistence.

Today, find a hero, and thank them. The response will be priceless!