Hester Lacey reflects on When I'm 64
In an absolutely invalid statistical sample of one ageing-ish parent, I have an observation to make. My mother was middle-aged when she retired at 63. It took her mere weeks to become aged, despite having an active mind occupied by adult education classes, theatre trips, Saga summer schools etc.
And then in another statistically invalid sample of one ageing aunt, 84, but she's still got her marbles. Age hasn't changed her one iota. Apart from a hip problem/replacement that limited her mobility for a time, she's in rude health, and even ruder phone calls. Much pleasure is taken by myself and others in telling her daughters she'll live to a hundred. And they try - one tried to put her on a flight to Tenerife instead of Ireland, and to put all manner of sharp objects and Class A drugs in her luggage. But, nevertheless, she still arrived in Ireland.
Her eldest daughter rang me and reprimanded me for not being in touch "I was wondering, have I said something? Has my mother said something?"
"Your mother has said something, but that wouldn't be held against you!" I exclaimed. We both giggled muchly...
(Mrs and Master G, are you still here reading...?)
