Marathon Man and Team GB: A Personal Appeal from Me.

A great post to help educate others. Please help support little Reggie who lives with this Chronic Condition.  Cheers to finding a cure one day!  🙂

M T McGuire Authorholic

As you know, I don’t normally talk about my family, mainly because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to know about them and that they, in turn, would be absolutely horrified if I did. However, today, I’m going to make an exception. This is a personal post, about my brother, and at the end of it, I’m going to ask for your help. I aim to beg in an amusing way, without putting anyone under pressure, but if you think you’ll be uncomfortable with that feel free to make a swift exit!

Right, if anyone’s still here, on we go.

Today, I’d like to tell you about a very important event which my brother, Giles Bell: A prime examples of er,  middle aged athleticism if ever there was one; a man in the peak of physical fitness – see photo – is going to undertake with a team of other…

View original post 649 more words

Living In The Moment

Contemplating my day. How will it go, what will he say? I’ve pulled off surprises in the past. Yet, this one I fear will be too short. It will not last. Stopping to sip a cup of of coffee near the airport lobby, twinkling lights of a runway welcome me. “Take pleasure in the moment, ” they seem to say.

A quick trip is planned to Arizona. Visiting my father. Two, younger sisters will be joining me in Phoenix. We ‘re stepping stones. 1-2-3. with about five years between the each of us. Renting a car, we plan to relax in a hotel while spending a few days of quality ‘sister’ time.

My father was told that he needed to be home this afternoon to “sign for a special delivery.” Indeed, when the three of us drive up Dad’s dusty circle drive, past the prickly cactus, mongrel dogs and the open starry skies, hopefully he’ll think we are a “special delivery!” I can’t wait to see the moon of his face, hear him struggle for words and string my arms around his neck.

My father had a slight accident last month, only a couple of weeks before Christmas. It was silly, he thought. Stooping low to climb into the crackled leather of the driver’s seat of his car, he missed. Bam! Ouch! Hitting the greying hair of his head on the edge of his cream-colored car, he nearly knocked himself out!

“No big deal,” he thought. Until he started driving. Dizziness., blurry vision and a headache began. Suddenly. Somehow, Dad made it to the first ER where tests determined a slight concussion. “A concussion??? I’ve never had one in my life,” Dad exclaimed!! “Are you kidding me????”

No driving for my father. Lots of rest. Trouble is, he’s had additional symptoms ever since. Some slight and subtle. Others not so much. Yesterday, he was back in ER with Vertigo.

His doctor does not think there is a connection between Dad’s concussion and other symptoms. As a writer who has done a lot of medical research in the past, I know just enough to be dangerous. I have my suspicions together with tremendous hope that I am wrong.

Enough of that! Back to “living in the moment.” I’ll soon be laughing with my sisters. Stopping for a bottle of red wine to share within the desert suite of our hotel. Staring at sand of beige with a pool of blue through the clear of our 2nd floor window.
Together, we’ll whisper jokes under fluffy covers while giggling until our bellies ache. Times 3!

Before that, we’ll surprise our father with an anticipated “special delivery.” He’ll be shocked with glee covering an enormous grin of wide! Happy and smiling. Crinkles with wrinkles surrounding watered blue eyes.

Dogs of two will jump and bark nearly knocking us down. Tall, Sahuaro cactus will greet us in the foreground while we relish in our father’s bliss.

Yes, all four of us , family together again will take pleasure in the moment.”>2015/01/img_1118.jpg</a

“Older” Little Sister

Last weekend, my husband and I delighted in having our newborn twin’s older ‘little’ sister for the night.  Early the next morning we opened wooden window blinds to discover twenty turkeys loitering across golden frozen tips of our once green grass.  I had never seen so many together in the whole of my life!

With pudgy fingers our petite 14 month old grand-daughter pointed with excitement to squeal, “Puppies!”  Sitting down in front of the window, her hands flat on cool tile, we felt swooshes of warm furnace air blowing up through a metal grate in the floor.  From her seat, she could see her “puppies” out the clear of window glass.   It was there that we taught her new words.  “Turkey” followed by, “Gobble-Gobble.”  So proud she was, trying to repeat them over and over again in her little baby voice.  “Gogble…gog-gle,” she said, with smiles so pink and wide.

Later, we took our little grand-daughter to The Magic House, a famous St. Louis children’s museum.  Truly, it is a magic house of sorts.  Victorian in design with three stories high plus an attic, the restored and redesigned home allows children to unleash hidden imaginations in never seen spaces of wonder and amazement.

Everything at The Magic House is hands-on with areas designated for age appropriateness.  When the three of us sat on primary colored seats of a bench of iron to take a simple rest, suddenly music sang loud and grande.   “Come, sit on me,” they seemed to say  “Let’s Play!”  As in musical chairs!  The three of us strummed strings of a giant harp shaped round with the head of a long wooden pin and afterwards, made brass bells ring while watching balls trip down the steps of a miniature ladder.  Oh, to see her face light up at the sounds of music she had never heard before!

Wandering towards another area, we followed the flow of a magical river seen clearly below our feet.  Yellow, red and green fish swam by through pebbles of speckled colors. Soon it met a beautiful pond of blue where Grandpa helped tiny hands grip a children’s wooden fishing pole.  Before you could say 1-2-3, a fish of blue rubber, all slippery and wet dangled from the end of a cream-colored string.  Smiles of delight….such a sight!

Next, we pretended to have lunch in a ‘fine’ make-believe restaurant where our own Sweetie Pie baked and served several slices of pepperoni pizza.  Then it was off to the grocery store for a quick shopping trip where our little one had her own basket to check-out all of her purchases.  A carton of chocolate milk or a pound of creamy butter?  A dozen of range-free eggs or yellow petals in a pot of green for Mommy?  Finally, she decided to buy everything, plopping down a wad of weathered bills.

Climbing flights of stairs to the third floor attic, we cuddled in the children’s library before going off to tumble down shiny silver slides or jump feet first into piles of plastic colored balls.  Turn your head, come down fast, take a dip, and jump so quick!  So much to do, so little time.

Long before all was seen and done, eyes of a toddler began to droop.  Lashes lingered while jackets were donned to brave the cold.  Arriving home, I changed my grand-daughter’s diaper before snuggling her in a rocking chair, warm with a fuzzy blanket of red.  Within seconds, she was sound asleep.  A terrific day for everyone with a wonderful opportunity to make an older ‘little’ sister feel extra special.

Still a baby yet herself, she needs that after all.


This slideshow requires JavaScript.