My parents lived very long lives, my mother to 88 and my father to 94.
Watching them age I learned all of the things I don’t want to do, or be. My parents were both the youngest in their families and outlived all of their siblings by many years. As is often the case their friends seemed to disappear and they made no efforts to make new friends or even acquaintances. At the end, they were terribly alone. My father managed to alienate his few concerned relatives with his increasing paranoia, and finally was left with just my brother, his soon to be wife, and me. I was always amazed he did not turn on me, since our relationship over the years could, at best, be called difficult.
This is not how I want to age. Most of my life my parents showed me what not to do, and they continued into their old age. But there are always exceptions to these things, and I have a funny one. My parents always bathed; they never showered, probably because the shower curtains were never adequate to keep the water inside the tub. After my mother died we finally moved my father into an assisted living facility. The thing he liked best about the facility was the shower; he often commented on it. Each morning, as I shower, I think of him. As the water hits my body all of my aches disappear, and I contemplate remaining there all day or until the hot water runs out. He probably felt the same.