I loved my Nan very very much. She died when she was 89. But she wasn’t happy. Her body was riddled with arthritis so she was in pain much of the time. She hated taking tablets so much of the time she wasn’t able to manage the pain.

I’d visit her and you’d see the colour drained from her face and know the pain she was in. She would try and be cheerful but you’d see through the mask.

I think the worst part was her loss of mobility and thus her independence.

She never drove so she was always walking everywhere normally to the shops to buy more bleach.

She was furiously house proud and we joked she bough more cleaning products than food on her trips to the shop.

She hated not being able to do her jobs. Everyday before the pain got too much she’d clean her house.

Before she’d stand at her doorstep talking to her neighbours normally smoking a cigarette as she did then.

She was also lonely although we all visited her often. She had lost so many people all her brothers and sisters were gone so it was like she was in deaths waiting room.

She’d say to see “Don’t ever grow old Debbie”

But it’s happening as it does to us all.

For me I don’t fear age, I fear pain and the loss of my independence. If I am able to still do what I like I’d welcome a long life.

The chance to see my kids and perhaps Grandkids grow and develop would be a gift.

To be at the age where you don’t give a fuck what people think of you and can please yourself sounds like bliss.

Loosing people would be hard as the older you live the more likely you are to loose people around you.

But a healthy long life would be lovely.

Thank you for reading x