Writing by Logan Read // photograph by Tiago Muraro
For a long time, I thought staying happy as you get older was about working hard and earning lots of money. Either you took care of your finances now so you could live in comfort as you got older or you squandered every dollar on your youth and were sad and poor as an elderly person. I can’t tell you why money was at the centre of my idea of happiness, but that all changed when I started spending more time with my grandma.
She didn’t teach me in a grand, life-lessony way. It was the slow, we’re both a bit bored and someone has suggested tai chi kind of way.
Between my uni classes, we would meet on a community lawn once a week with our teacher and four other golden babes, moving slowly and deliberately, trying not to laugh when one of us loses balance. Grandma says tai chi helps her aches and pains. I haven’t admitted but it brings me back into myself, when my whole self has been lost in thought.
One of the things Grandma has taught me — without ever saying it outright — is that getting older comes with a surprising permission slip. You don’t have to do everything anymore. You don’t have to say yes to plans you don’t care about or push yourself just to prove you still can. Grandma is ruthless about simplicity. If something feels exhausting or even just boring, she drops it. If it feels good, she keeps it. Watching her do that has been oddly revolutionary. And funnily enough, most of the things she keeps don’t cost much at all.
Connection for her is a non-negotiable. She connects with her friends daily just as often as she brushes her teeth.
Now that I’m willing, she’s brought me into her weekly movie night routine, I’ve learnt a lot about what life was like for her growing up and while she wasn’t as big a fan as I am of Bridesmaids, she definitely laughed louder than I’ve ever heard. Some movie nights we even experiment with cocktails. I am excellent at Googling. Grandma is excellent at ratios. Together, we’ve made some genuinely good drinks, we could charge an arm and a leg for.
We also teach each other things. Grandma taught me how to put my hair in curlers properly — not the rushed, half-done way I’d been doing it, but the careful, sectioned method that somehow makes the whole thing feel ceremonial. I taught her how to text and use emojis. She still signs every message with her name, which I don’t have the heart to correct.
What I’ve noticed is that staying connected doesn’t have to mean huge social calendars or constant activity. Sometimes it’s just knowing someone will notice if you don’t show up to tai chi. Or having someone to text — even if that text says, “At the movies with Gladys. Love Grandma Shirl.”
Although Grandma is not ready to move out of her little flat, some of her friends have and she has her back up plans if she finds things a bit hard at home alone. She doesn’t like the idea of a big old folks home, but an independent living community could be the perfect solution.
Perhaps the biggest lesson, though, is about anticipation. Grandma always has something to look forward to. A film night. A lunch planned. A new recipe she wants to try. Sometimes it’s as small as a book she’s ordered and is waiting to arrive. It doesn’t have to be dramatic (or expensive!).
Spending time with her has made me realise that happiness later in life isn’t about having everything sorted, it isn’t about having expensive things or expensive holidays. It’s about choosing what matters, staying connected, moving in ways that feel kind, and letting yourself look forward to what’s next — even if what’s next is just cocktails and hair curlers with your granddaughter.
