Feeling Great at 88... She Crossed Out 88. Then 89. Now 94 and Still Going!
My thirteen-year-old grandson and I were walking to the shops in Redcliffe when he spotted a woman being pushed in a wheelchair. He went quiet for a moment, then looked at me and asked: Do you think you’ll ever be like that?
I was honest with him.
I said it scared the living daylights out of me.
Then I told him about his great-great-grandmother. About how she spent her later years increasingly dependent, increasingly limited, her world shrinking around her. And then I told him about his great-nana — my mum — who is living almost the same life now. Same pattern, different decade. She has outlived her mother, due to medication being more advanced and her willingness to be diligent, but the trajectory is the same.
I have outlived my grandmother. I don’t carry the chronic illnesses either of them carried. And every single day I make choices that I hope — truly hope — will mean my story ends differently. But there are no guarantees.
This is my why.
What I Saw Every Morning
During my morning foreshore walks, I kept seeing two women.
The first stopped me before I even saw her face. Her shirt said it all. Printed across the front: Feeling great at 88. Except 88 was crossed out. And 89. And 90, 91, 92, 93. All the way up to 94 — uncrossed. Still counting. Still here. Still out every morning with someone alongside her, moving, smiling, greeting the day.
That shirt put a smile on my face every single time.
The second woman had a wheelie walker. But here’s what struck me — she was upright. Moving well. And she was completely alone. No carer. No companion. Just herself and the foreshore path and the morning. Doing it entirely for herself.
I don’t know either of their names. But I thought about them long after I walked past.
What’s Really Happening
There is no single reason why some women keep moving into their 80s and 90s and others don’t. Genetics play a role. Circumstance plays a role. Access plays a role. Chronic illness plays a role.
But so does choice. So does habit. So does having a reason that matters enough to get you out of bed on the mornings when it would be easier not to.
The women who keep moving have a why. It might be independence. It might be their great/grandchildren. It might be a shirt that keeps count of every year they showed up. It might simply be that moving makes them feel like themselves.
Spending time exploring and committing to your why keeps you moving forward each day.
Real-Life Anchor
My grandmother’s story is part of my why. My mum’s story is part of my why. That question from my grandson — do you think you’ll ever be like that? — sharpened it in a single moment.
I can’t control everything. I know that. But I can control what I do today. The movement I choose. The habits I protect. The decision to keep showing up — not because it’s always easy or convenient, but because I have seen what the alternative looks like up close.
I am building something now that I hope to need later.
The Shift
Ageing with intention doesn’t mean perfect. It doesn’t mean never being pushed in a wheelchair. It doesn’t mean outliving everyone or escaping difficulty.
It means being honest about your why. It means making choices that are aligned with the life you want to live for as long as you can live it. It means not drifting quietly into a smaller version of yourself because it was easier than doing something.
The woman with the shirt crossed out 88. Then 89. Then 90. She kept going. That’s not luck. That’s a decision made over and over again, year after year, morning after morning.
What’s your why?
The Confidence Connection
There is a particular kind of confidence that comes from knowing you are doing something for your future self.
Not the confidence of being the fittest or the strongest. The quieter kind. The kind that comes from showing up on the mornings you don’t feel like it. From making the choice — again — to help yourself.
The woman with the wheelie walker on the Redcliffe foreshore had it. Upright, moving well, completely alone, doing it entirely for herself. Whatever her why is, it was enough to get her out there. And it showed.
That’s what ageing with intention looks like in real life. Not a before and after. Not a transformation. Just someone who kept going, and whose body — and spirit — reflect that.
Find your why. Then protect it.
Move Moment
Think about one woman in your life — older than you — whose physical capability you admire. Or whose situation you quietly fear.
Now ask yourself honestly: what am I doing today that moves me toward one and away from the other?
You don’t need to answer out loud. But you do need to answer.
PS. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to have a reason. What's yours?
