I hate to think of my parents as old. Aside from the fact that such a thought means I'm old, too, it also brings thoughts of loss too close to the surface. Jessica commented on some picture of Mom not too long ago, saying, hey, she sure looked old. I think I refrained from saying, "You're no spring chicken yourself, sweetie," but I can't be sure. The sentiment certainly applies to both of us, too.
If you're lucky, you manage to capture some of your parents' essence, the part that makes you smile. You know, like those pictures of the jolly old man sitting in a chair, usually with some kid on his lap? And he has that look of contentment on his face? The picture that fills you with warm fuzzies?
No kid, but I did manage one of my dad that makes me smile. Fits right in with the not-so-subtle orneriness of that man.