Growing old

More than often I'm frightened of old age. I know I am getting there. Certain daily occurrences, as trivial as they may seem, are quite strenuous to perform. I see the laundry van drive by my house, I see people walking past with zimmerframes, I see some with walking sticks or a crutch to lean on.
I live in a neighbourhood with many old age pensioners. I know what it's like to have nothing to do a lot of the time and to have too many thoughts that aren't encouraging. But I'd hate to lose the ability to do most things on my own. Like washing my clothes, doing the dishes, everything-it's all a game that I am slowly losing. I'm slow, slower than before, I'm grumpy, grumpier than before. I like the simple things- they give me immense satisfaction- things I would scorn when I was younger. I wish young people wouldn't look at old people the way they do but I did myself before. I hate it.I don't want to just sit around with nothing to do and memories that mostly aren't worth thinking about.