My left foot is fine. My left arm? Well, maybe not so much.
It began simply enough.
There were 12 of us at the spacious table, gathered for a tasty, albeit unconventional Christmas meal of soup and salad. My adult son was seated to my immediate left. Meal completed, compliments and gratitude expressed to the preparer, my son turned to the fellow on my right.
“You want some coffee? I’m going to Starbucks.”
“Do you have to go out? Can’t you make it here?”
My daughter had …