The prune

My mother's chatter about a facelift always remained chatter, since my father didn’t have the money for one and my mother was in and out of hospitals for more important reasons much of her adult life. A frivolous facelift was never a serious consideration. But that didn’t stop her from talking about one, well into her 80s.

I should point out that my family has a healthy dose of longevity genes. Not only did my paternal grandmother live till almost 99, but her sister ALSO lived to 98 (in spite of diabetes and an amputated leg), and another sister to 94. This record of nonagenarians on my father's side of the family meant that the likelihood of my living to a ripe old Rose Kennedy-kind-of-age was high. And what's the point of looking like a prune for the last 40 years of your life?