To give that some context, she was born while World War I was still raging. She married and started a family during the Great Depression. She lived through the administrations of 20 U.S. Presidents. She was born before women had the legal right to vote and was a witness to the Civil Rights Movement. 

Grandma grew up with horse-drawn buggies and saw rockets put a man on the moon. She watched a world divided by oceans and distance become connected in real-time. 

And she took it all in stride. Rather than complain about the way things used to be, she always seemed intrigued by what was next. I know it couldn’t have always been easy, but she made it look that way to me. 

In taking a little time to reflect on her life, I feel there are more than a few lessons that we can take from a life well lived. With your permission, I’d like to walk through a few that stick out. I hope you find that they can apply to your life, your restoration or cleaning business, and even more simply, your Tuesday.

Don’t just sit there

Some of my earliest memories of grandma are centered around movement. From a walk to the post office after lunch, to the bowling league well into her 80s, picking figs off the tree in her backyard… 

A day at grandma’s house was not spent in front of the TV. It was outside and it was an adventure. Later in life, when she needed some help and had to relocate to a facility, she chose the room farthest from the dining room so she could get some exercise on her way to and from meals. 

When she was 107, I was privileged to accompany grandma to a Texas Rangers baseball game. She wouldn’t leave before the final out was called; she didn’t want to miss it. 

Even the last time I saw her, she stood up and announced that she was taking some “laps” around my parents’ living room, oxygen tank and all. 

Grandma didn’t let life happen to her. She met life head-on.  

There are times when we let the events of the day get the best of us. Who says we have to just sit there and take it? Push back, try harder… and when you fail, try again. 

The point is not that we always have to move fast or accomplish the remarkable. It’s that we keep going, participating in the day. Take that walk. Stay until the final out. 

Today, life is going to present you with an opportunity to tell a story. Don’t just sit there, keep showing up and make sure it’s the one you want to tell. 

A sense of adventure

My grandparents never had a ton of money, but I never saw that stop them from living a full life. Maybe not full of things, but experiences enough to fill a book. Exploring what might be down the road or around the next corner. They kept a sense of wonder about the world around them and were kind enough to let us have a look. 

Road trips to Niagara Falls and the Northeast in 1949. The Southwest and Grand Canyon in ’51. A move halfway across the country in 1970. 

Sometimes I let my day wear me out. My brain gets fuzzy, my eyes glaze over, and I stop seeing what’s actually around me. Things become dull and a little grey and dreary. If I’m not careful, that outlook can bleed from my view to my attitude, compounding bad upon bad. 

Grandma would tell us to take a chance at something new and not forget to be amazed.  

You have a supercomputer in your pocket with more information at your fingertips in a minute than our predecessors had in a lifetime. A 47-ton hunk of steel just flew you halfway across the country, seven miles above the ground, in just a couple of hours. Did you forget? 

She’d challenge us to pick up our head, raise our eyes, and shift our perspective. Adventure is out there if you’re willing to look for it.

Don’t go it alone

When my wife and I were first married, we made a point to have dinner with my grandparents at least once a month. More than a few times, we couldn’t get on their calendar! After 61 years of marriage, they always had dinner with friends or a night out on the books, and us grandkids got squeezed in three weeks from Thursday.  

My grandparents even honeymooned with friends. As I pored through her old photo albums, I noticed that they were always doing life with others. Even in her later years, grandma spoke often of the friends she made at church, at the home, and in a waiting room. 

She made a life out of holding close those who were the most important to her. Those relationships weren’t incidental; they were intentional. 

Why do we try to go it alone? Surround yourself with some good people, those who will both lift you up and those who will tell you when you’re wrong. 

I feel that humans were built for community, to do life with others. Find yours.

Never stop being challenged

An afternoon with grandma always meant a game or a puzzle—or usually both. Well past her 100^th birthday, she was still putting puzzles together. As her eyesight faded, she adjusted, moving from 1,000 pieces to 100, but she never stopped working on them. The challenge changed, but her willingness to take it on did not. 

And grandma played games to win. There were no courtesy victories, even for the grandkids. Whether the game was Skip-Bo, Joker, or dominoes, she paid attention, thought ahead, and expected you to do the same. Losing didn’t bother her nearly as much as not trying. 

Keep your mind sharp. Stay curious. Learn something that makes you uncomfortable, take on the problem that doesn’t have an easy answer, and spend time with people who make you think. The size of the puzzle may change, but we should never lose the desire to solve it.

Write it down

After grandma’s passing, while looking through her things, I found her journals. She took notes about life, into her 90s. The high temp, the low…the score of the Cubs game and who pitched that one…a sentence or two about the events of the day. Sometimes simple and mundane, sometimes earth-shattering. Some days filled with celebration and others pulled down by the weight of mourning.  

But always written down.  

I like to think that grandma felt blessed to experience the day and had the perseverance to take a few minutes to jot it down. It seems as though she took those notes to seal it all away for use at a later time. A way to remember the good days and to process the harder ones. 

Life happens fast and the days go by quickly. Maybe we should try to write it down, capture just a few words about how it all went. From brain to hand to paper…the rhythm allows us to engage our brain, to process emotions, and to quiet the mind. A period at the end of a sentence. Punctuation to close the day.

In summary

While trying to wrap my mind around what it would be like to walk the earth for 109 years, I am reminded that a life well lived is measured not only in the quantity of years but on how fully we use those years.  

Grandma’s lessons are not complicated, but maybe that’s the key. A meaningful life is built on the ordinary choices we are brave enough to make each day—and if we’re lucky, those choices create a legacy that continues long after our journey is done. 

I loved my grandma dearly and am grateful for the time I was given to be with and learn from her. Thanks for allowing me to share a little of her with you.