Lucinda Holdforth

And in the case of my parents, they were of a generation for whom doctors were gods.

They were entirely differential to them.

Doctors were the people that came and saved your kid when she had measles.

They were the people that picked you up when you broke your arm.

So they would never say no to something the doctor said, in which case I would always agree.

Probably not, never in my father's case.

Dad pretended he was going to live forever.

He was very lovable and he loved life and he didn't want to hear about death.

Mum, I think, was ready, but she, again, I would never have spoken to a doctor in front of her and I never really got the opportunity to talk to a doctor separately.

Oh, yes.

My nana had a farm in Coonabarabran on the Oxley Highway.

She was a complete legend.

She dyed her hair red till the end.

She scandalised the country party locals with a poster of Gough Whitlam on the Oxley Highway outside her farm.

Actually, she'd be cross with me for calling it a farm.

It was a property.

She had cattle.

So what I noticed when I was thinking about these issues, I thought, gosh, as we get older, and here I'm not really talking about mum and her generation, but me and my generation, the expectation is that you have to try and look young.

Um, and you have to somehow, um...

Treat ageing as an enemy.