This month, I’ve spent hours talking with friends and family about getting old and dying. It’s such a fun topic when you’re on holiday. Yet, discussing ageing and death is now part of the narrative of my life. At 68, if the media interviewed me, I would be considered an “elderly retired grandmother”. Not that I feel like that. When I was a young mum, I talked about babies and toddlers. Then I lamented with anyone who would listen about wayward teenagers. After those teenagers became adults and left, I discussed work. Now that I’m retired many conversations are around planning holidays, grandchildren, the state of the world, getting old, and death. It’s a bit like the Organ Recital, where we oldies discuss our ailments.
I understand ageing and dying are challenging topics, but I’m both surprised and saddened at the lack of preparation that many people put into this journey. It seems to me that they would prepare more for a long weekend away.
Here are three big questions that I think we need to ask ourselves:
Where am I going to live?
Most people want to age in their own home. I certainly do. What does this mean though? Does it mean staying in the house you raised your children in, or does it mean moving to a home that is more suitable for this time of your life? If you choose to stay in your home, are there alterations you can make to maximise your ease and enjoyment? Perhaps it’s as small as installing grab rails or as big as moving the laundry upstairs. It’s a challenge managing the conflict of wanting to stay as active and independent as possible, while also preparing for an unclear future.
My 92-year-old father-in-law and 90-year-old mother-in-law live independently in their family home. They have made some alterations like adding a step elevator for the front steps and installing grab rails and a bidet in the bathroom. They have help in the garden and a cleaner. Their home remains perfect for them, close to family and the community they have lived in all their lives. However, I decided I needed to move after falling down my internal stairs four years ago and breaking my ankle. I no longer wanted to live in a two-storey house on a steep block. Now we live in a flat-on-the-ground house which gives me easy access to the outside. I am more active here than I was in the other house. We only moved 600 metres, so we too are still in our community.
When did you last walk through your house and really look at it, thinking about how suitable it is for the next stage of your life? The thought of making changes or moving is anxiety-provoking but not as distressing as having to quickly make important life decisions in a health crisis.
The reality is, many of us are likely to need help if we want to age in place, whether it’s someone to do the gardening, cleaning, laundry, make beds, provide meals, or help with transport. I’d rather accept some help in my own home than be in an aged care home.
Here’s the link to Australian aged care services: Access Australian aged care information and services | My Aged Care
and a New Zealand link: Help in your home | New Zealand Government
Who’s going to make decisions about my health if I can’t?
It’s unimaginable that I won’t be able to make decisions for myself, but I have seen the consequences of not planning for this possibility. At 65 years old, a friend had a stroke and was unable to make decisions for himself. After an initial hospital stay, he was moved to an aged care home. His family and friends had to make an application to the Guardianship and Administration Tribunal, so a guardian to manage his affairs could be appointed. Until this happened no major decisions could be made about his assets, and funds needed for his care were limited. My friend also had to be medically assessed as not having the capacity to make important health and personal decisions as evidence for the tribunal. These stressful and lengthy medico/legal processes would have been avoided had he prepared an Enduring Power of Attorney when he was well.
An Enduring Power of Attorney is a legal document where you appoint someone to make decisions on your behalf if you are unable to. This person is called the Attorney. While you are well you can choose who will best be able to manage your health care and assets, including paying bills and selling real estate. This is an important decision and if there is no one you know who can undertake this role then you can appoint the Public Trustee.
Imagine how stressful it would be for friends and family if you did not have an Enduring Power of Attorney, and they were unable to act rapidly in your best interests in a crisis.
What’s going to happen to all my stuff when I’m dead?
We all have “stuff”. It seems to accumulate no matter how many clean-outs we have. Some of that “stuff” is valuable, like your home, financial investments and other assets. I’m sure family and friends will select sentimental mementos when I’m gone, but they won’t want most of my chattels and I’m ok with this. However, although I plan to spend as much of my money as I can before I die, I do want to choose who will receive any remaining financial assets. The best way I can ensure this will happen as I wish is to make a Will.
A Will is a legal document that states who will receive your property and possessions after you die. At least one person must know where your Will is. This is usually someone that you have appointed as Executor during the process of making the Will. Here are a few links to Wills but get legal advice.
Online will kits compared | CHOICE
About wills | Queensland Public Trustee
NZLS | Making a Will and Estate Administration
I’m off to nag the younger adults in my life.
Preparing for aging and dying doesn’t start when you’re old. In fact, it’s more important to plan when you’re young. If you’ve got kids or have a home, then you better have an Enduring Power of Attorney and a Will. Imagine if something happened to you and grieving children and spouses didn’t know your wishes. A hard time made unnecessarily more difficult.
What are you doing, or not doing, to plan for getting old and dying?
P.S. I’m well and healthy!!
Postscript: I friend on Facebook made this comment and I thought it was worth adding
The lawyer in me says to look over your wills every few years to check they reflect the changes that occur in your lives and update if necessary.It’s also important to have an Advance Health Directive (sometimes known as a living will) which outlines your preferences for care and medical procedures/interventions and appoints someone to make decisions regarding your health on your behalf, in the event you lose capacity to do so yourself.Again like a will it should be reviewed every few years or if circumstances change.Good on you Anne for raising this topic!







Leo lifts the brass latches of the 100-year-old cabin trunk, opens the lid and climbs inside. At 18 months old Leo is unaware that the trunk belonged to his great-great-grandmother Purthanry Thanes Mary Cutts. While he explores, I run my hands gently over the aged leather lid and embellished corners, allowing myself to daydream of luxurious travel aboard a grand cruise liner.
I met Purthanry, my husband’s paternal grandmother when I was 30 and she was in her 80’s. Like the trunk, she had an aura of elegance and sophistication which I found somewhat intimidating even as she welcomed me warmly into the family. I was unaware of the trunk until after her death. Then I coveted it. The trunk is a precious family heirloom and a connection to my
Purthanry had returned home by 1928 when she married Frank Moorhouse at 27. Purthanry, a Girl Guide Captain, and her Guides, approached Frank at Mosman ferry wharf while selling tickets to a ball. Initially Frank refused the tickets as he did not have a partner, however, the resourceful Guides assured him they could organise the perfect date. Purthanry and Frank attended the ball together.
The couple moved to East Street, Nowra, living in a home they called Amaroho. Some of Purthanry’s first acquisitions were a beautiful dressing table and chamber pot commode cupboard which stayed with Purtharny until her death at 95. When I received the cabin trunk, my son and his English wife took possession of the dressing table and cupboard which are now part of Leo’s daily life. Arthur remembers his mother brushing her long hair at the dressing table. She always tied her hair up in a bun. Purthanry dressed formally with minimal makeup and never wore trousers or shorts.
When old people gather (and I don’t mind being called old because I am, and the alternative is worse) it often starts as an organ recital. We update each other on our aches and pains, and how our bodily parts are functioning. For me this year it’s been about heart, hip and head, so I’ve had lots to contribute.
This was my first foray into AI. I asked it to make me “body organs playing music” and this is what it produced. I am amazed. What do you think?
I’ve had great fun entering a couple of short-story competitions,
“Jack, would you like to try the marinated goats’ balls?”
The theme of the festival is Growth and Resilience and I’m excited to share how, as a novice writer, I fought through the frustrations I experienced while writing 
Frank Moorhouse was on the periphery of my life.
Connecting with Frank Moorhouse
Franks Memorial
I have no post-retirement plans. I am delightfully diary free, and thankful that the relentless ring of alarm clocks and scheduling of appointments is no longer part of my life. There is now space to respond to whatever turns up. What I didn’t expect to turn up was a frantic desire to engage in a frenzy of cleaning and purging.

Grace has not had twelve people at her table for a long time. Hers isn’t the kind of family who share regular Sunday meals. But it isn’t every day you turn seventy.
It was quiet in the practice on Wednesday evening, some of my colleagues were away, and others were working behind closed doors. I finished my last session at 7 pm, closed my trusty laptop, picked up my raggedy pad with scrawled notes, untangled the cords to my old-fashioned earphones, and packed my bag. Took my favourite green teacup to the kitchen, said goodnight to Millie who was managing the reception desk and slid out the backdoor.
My son, daughter, and daughter-in-law celebrated my retirement by gifting me a bottle of vodka, Bloody Mary mix, lemon juice, a glass, and PJs. The Bloody Mary tradition was born while living in Papua New Guinea for eight years. I would board the plane to leave and order a Bloody Mary. It’s become our family marker of travel and transitions. Is this what they think I’ll be doing with the rest of my life?