Margie with aspirations

Margie is sharp as crystal today. I said something about that, and she laughed, "Sometimes my words don't match my aspirations, but I see they're coming a little faster today. You see I got that one. Aspirations," and she threw her head back laughing. "Another day I might wait half an hour and never get that word."

I haven't seen her for a month, first because I wasn't well, and then when I recovered from the sinus infection, her sons were visiting. She can't remember how long they were here--maybe a week, at least five days--but they both brought blow-up beds and slept in her apartment, so she has had non-stop company for a while. One of them had a birthday. She can't remember which one, but somebody made cake, and she's sure it was delicious.

"I know it makes a difference, having conversations every day. I still don't have much short-term memory, but my body is in fabulous shape. These legs: they just keep going. I wish I weren't so strong physically, I don't know how I'm ever going to get free, but the mind. The mind is another story entirely. When I have conversations every day, it can still sharpen up a bit, and I love that. Words," she paused, thinking, "words are bridges. And I love them, when I can find them."