Until I was born, my sister Caroline was the youngest DiNoto sister. I usurped her position as “the baby” when Crinnie, as we all call her, was eleven. Because she is the closest to me in age, and the only one of my sisters who has always lived in our hometown, I spent more time with her than my other sisters while growing up. Now that we are “grown ups” (I use the term lightly when applied to me), I am proud to call her one of my closest friends.
Over the years, Crinnie has taken steps to ensure I am able to remain fully involved in our family activities. In 2007, when I fell and injured my leg, she bought a fully electric hospital bed so I could recuperate at her house over the Thanksgiving holiday. That was the first year I spent Thanksgiving with her and her husband’s extended family, a tradition I have continued for nine years now.
When Crinnie and her husband Paul built their new house in 2008 on a country road outside our hometown, they incorporated visitability and accessibility into their plans. Their house has a ramp, accessible toilets, pedastal sinks, wide doors, lowered light switches, raised outlets, lever door handle sets, and other modifications which make it a wonderful refuge for me.
We wanted to make sure you always had a place to come home to.
This year, Crinnie made it possible for our parents to see me while I was in the hospital. Our elderly parents do not drive the distance from our hometown to the city where I now live. Crinnie brought them up to visit me twice – once right after surgery and again while I was at Sunnyview Rehabilation Hospital.
Mom wants to see her baby, so I told her I’d bring them up on Sunday. Is there a room we can use for lunch?
Crinnie, Mom and Dad arrived after my physical therapy, just before noon the following Sunday. Knowing pasta is my comfort food, Mom made a dish of rigatoni, meatballs and sauce. Crinnie made a delicious salad, and the four of us had a lively picnic in the patient lounge. For three hours, I was able to escape from the reality of rehab as we talked and laughed. And just because I’m in my 40’s doesn’t mean I don’t feel better after a hug from my mom and dad.
Eventually, I returned home to face the reality of a new way of doing all my daily tasks. My restrictions meant I was no longer able to use a regular toilet, and required the purchase of a specific bedside commode and transfer board. I told Crinnie I would not be able to come visit and stay at her house without this equipment, unless I found a way to safely use a regular toilet.
Well, can’t we just order what you need? Tell me what to get so you will be able to stay.
Crinnie ordered the commode, and learned how to transfer me using my new transfer board. This allowed me to double the locations in which I could go to the bathroom – my home and her house. It also allows me the opportunity to join the family feast once again today for Thanksgiving, and means I don’t have to miss the annual DiNoto Cookie Bake this weekend with our parents and sisters.
If you are a regular reader and comment on this blog, you have seen Crinnie’s comments. She is by far the most frequent commenter here, which makes sense as she has always supported my writing since I was a child. I know I can count on her honest feedback whenever I call to read her a work in progress. She is a great editor, often catching irregularities I miss or offering suggestions for improvement. Crinnie first heard this post when I read it aloud to her last night while she was busy preparing food for today’s feast.
Crinnie – thank you for being one of the best big sisters a girl could ask for. Your sacrifices this year have kept me involved in family activities, which has helped the healing process. I know from my disabled peers this does not always happen in families. I appreciate all you do to assist me with daily activities whenever I stay at your “inn on the hill.” Your support and love make my world a brighter place, and I can’t think of a better person to recognize with this post, the 300th post on my little blog.