This afternoon, I moved the wicker chair into position by Trink's bed so she could easily see me while I read aloud chapter 14 of Barack Obama's Dreams from My Father.
Then I made tea, returned to her bedroom, placed her tea and ginger snaps on her bed tray, and looked for a place to put down my tea and shortbread. I noticed three little nesting tables that Trink's daughter had brought down from her Kentucky home. When I picked them up, one leg fell off.
Without the slightest pause, Trink said, "Those tables are 85 years old. That's no surprise. I'm 87 and I've lost one leg, too!"
I laughed and laughed, and she smiled.
Trink proves that even a debilitating stroke, which leaves a person partially paralyzed (in her case, the left side), need not be a death knell for a sense of humor. I envy her her strong disposition and her courage.