My grandmother, who will be turning 97 this year (if it please God), fell last night. Her ankles were a bit swollen when she fell, so her flesh split open with the impact — a half-foot gash open to the shin bone.
She just laughed. Even while they stitched her up. Her only complaint was that the ice they used on her wound to prevent further swelling was a bit too cold.
I want to be like her. Bare-boned and laughing. Such character.