What do you hope/expect your old age to look like?

My gran hits most of the 'negatives' on the nose here. She's widowed a long time, forgetful, doddery, has some health issues, finds it hard to walk long distances, had to quit driving, all the stuff we dread about getting older. She's more than just part of the aging picture though.

She's very happy. She's got family over several times a week to spend time with her, she lives beside a bus stop and hits the shops regularly. She has a 'gentleman caller' who isn't in much better shape, but the pair of them head out to the cinema and to dinner every couple of weeks. She had a poker night with her 'girlfriends' on Saturday, and when I called to see how it was going, the laughter in the background was just lovely. She lost a tenner, money well spent. She wears hats when she goes out, and always, always, has a brooch pinned to her lapel and her Revlon Red lipstick on her smile. She takes such pride in her grandkids and kids, it's embarrassing to listen to her list out all your 'achievements' to whoever will listen, starting with your talent for glitter glue pictures in Infants.

If that's what getting old can be like, there's no way I'd want to quit at 50. Bring it on I say.

ShiftStorm

My two grandmothers were polar opposites of each other:

My maternal grandmother died at 79, depressed, selfish, bitter and quite lonely. She was a beauty queen in her youth and I think never came to terms with "losing" her beauty, even though she was still very stylish in everyone else's eyes. She had her great moments, was thoughtful with gifts, doted on her favoured grandchildren (I was lucky enough to be included in that number) and was one of the wittiest people I've known. But she was also cutting, judgmental, negative and held grudges and gradually cut off everyone, including some of her children if they said or did something she didn't agree with, which inevitably they would. My grandad, whom I adore and who is still alive, thank God, waited on her hand and foot 'til the day she died and nothing he did was good enough

My paternal grandmother on the other hand, died at 93, as sharp-witted, colourful, and full of humour, joy and strength as when I first met her She was kind, feisty, generous, brave, always laughing, always feeding others, never had a bad word to say about anyone and didn't take herself seriously. She was a Dublin city centre lady, swam in the Irish sea once a week no matter what the weather, walked everywhere, was on a tiny pension but always secretly pressed a fiver into your hand when you left her house, and gave Burdock's a run for their money with her incredible Ray n Chips combo (deep fried in lard mmm). She faced so much hardship including losing a child, being burgled and mugged countless times and was even caught in the crossfire of some bank raid-related shooting! But she always picked herself up again and looked after those less fortunate than her. I was abroad at the time of her funeral but my dad told me that the queue of people offering condolences and sharing touching stories with him of how she looked after them or cheered them up when they were in need, snaked out and around the church Aw, I miss her.

So, I hope my life looks like that of my paternal grandmother!