Many of us dream of dragging our worthless existence on as long as possible. The selfish idea of becoming a burden on our kids and our society fills us with such bitter glee we bang on about it, especially mentioning how we “deserve it”, and how “kid’s today don’t know what I had to do”
Edna Crispywasp is one of these centenarians. A proud East Midlander, and home owner, she revels in tales of old and stories of days gone by
“I did nothing in the war” she told us. “Sat on my arse and ate black market meat. I actually gained weight”
Her anecdotes and vim lighten up any room. Her great granddaughter comes in to the room carrying the milkiest cup of Typhoo you will ever fucking witness, and spoons in 6 sugars before placing on Edna’s tray. She gleefully, and noisily slurps from the china cup proclaiming “that’ll do”. The room erupts into a warm chuckle
She spends much of her day in her charmingly unchanged bedroom from about 1960. Flowery wall paper adorns the chamber, with a carpet that hasn’t varied since Shakin’ Stevens was in the hit parade. The staid nature of the surroundings provide comfort, and it is easy to see why. Along with the delightfully fusty smell, and biblical quantities of lace, I could spend the rest of my life here too!
Never having worked a day in her life, Edna was married to Andrew, a Chartered Accountant and the love of her life. Wed in 1922 they proceeded to have six children. Andrew died on his 75th birthday travelling back from his office, when a seagull crashed into the spokes of his bicycle causing him to fall into the sea on a cold winter’s night. His body, his bike and the seagull were never found
“He was okay” she said. Her love lost, aching in her depths still apparent after all these years. The signs of an old-fashioned and immovable partnership that never waned, apparent for all to see.
We move onto the big questions, the questions that earn a well-trained journalist their hard earned contracted, hourly rate; I ask “how did you get to this age and still have all your marbles within reach?” A knowing laugh follows
“Robust telomeric sequences, calorific limitation, genetic ‘good luck’, environmental ‘good luck’, an excellent healthcare system, limited life stress, close family, and probably fifteen other unquantifiable factors I’m ill-informed to advise you on”
We wilfully ignore the reasoned response and ask for a sound bite or some shit, so we can up the twee quotient to eleven. She declined
I think we can all agree, the elderly are a blessing on us all. The marked increase in their lifespans ensures their ways can be passed on from generation to generation. Their outspoken, and predominantly out-dated views and outbursts are a delight to witness and hilarious for all.
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