Nip the fucker in the bud

An elderly lady (my mom; but to give this post a slightly more universal air, I’ll refrain from naming names) runs (or rather slowly walks) into a slightly younger old acquaintance. The younger woman rejects reassurances that her age doesn't show. 

How can I not look old after I lost A.?”, she asks in a subdued voice.

I didn't know that one of her daughters was killed by cancer (direct descendant of Adam and Eve’s sin) a few years ago. “One must to accept such things", the first woman sounds as if she was saying something wise. “No!”, I but in, “Never agree to death!” The look the women give me suggests that they may not be willing to join the avantgarde of the anti-death squad I belong to, but generally they seemed sympathetic to its efforts. 

“Sometimes I believe there is hope for us to see each other again one day…”, sighs the other woman. “Bank on it!”, I say. We part our ways then, so I don't have time to add: "Nip the fucker in the bud, intellectually. The first deadly blow must come from the mind!"