She's 88. Or 89. I don't remember which one exactly. And she'd be the first to tell you that it doesn't matter anyway. Especially when you feel much younger than your age actually indicates.
Neither do our phone conversations.
In fact, they often go something like this:
Marissa: Hi Grandma.
Grandma: Oh, Marissa, how are you? Did you eat dinner yet?
Me: Nope, I'm making it now.
Grandma: Well, I better let you get going then.
Me: No, it's okay. How are you?
Grandma: Oh well, you know, I went to a picnic today, and we played some cards, and your old grandmother, stupid me, I did some dancing, but not the twist.*
Me: Sounds good.
Grandma: Are you done cooking?
Me: No, not yet.
Grandma: Well, I better let you go. You're busy. Thanks for calling me.
*Note: Grandma recently injured herself...doing The Twist. Yes. True story.
In fact, when I Googled gram, I found this!
So, in conclusion, yes, old ladies matter. And when you're tempted to be rude to one in public just because she's old, remember, that old lady is someone's grandma, someone's friend, someone's mother, someone's wife, someone's special someone.
I remembered this when the white-haired lady at the gym came up to me and said, "You remind me of Casey Anthony, the BABY KILLER!" That old lady, she's someone special.
And this old lady, the one I'm talking about for the majority of this post, is MY someone special.
And if you're rude to her, I'll sock you in the face, and you'll be sorry.