5 Tips from the Living
What I want my kids to know while I'm still here to say it.
If you found something here worth keeping, pass it on. A like, a comment, a restack â it's how The Pebble in Your Shoe finds the people who need it most. And if you have wisdom of your own to add, the comments are open. I'd love to hear what you'd put on your list.
Who agrees that grandmothers have more than earned their own research study?
Dr. Neal K. Shah, a Johns Hopkins and NIH-funded researcher, certainly does. In an Instagram video, he speaks about why grandparents seem more joyful with their grandchildren than they were with their own children.
My children havenât expressed this thought to me, but they see a different version of me than when they were growing up.
Emory University scanned the brains of grandmothers looking at photos of their grandchildren. The emotional center fired instantly. Scientists called it âGrandma Brain.â When the same grandmothers looked at photos of their adult children, their brains responded totally differently, not with less love, but with a different kind. The brain fired in a more thoughtful, complex way. (Translation: still love you deeply, just with a side of âhave you paid your taxes?â)
The lead researcher asked the same grandmothers what was different. Not one of them talked about love, but said, âThis time Iâm not scared, Iâm not exhausted, no oneâs judging me. This time I get to show up and feel every single moment without the weight of the world on my shoulders.â
Grandparents donât love their adult children less, but love their grandchildren in a way they wished they could have loved their own children: freely, lightly, and without the weight of the world on their shoulders. This is their second chance. And watching them take it is one of the most beautiful things a family can witness.
I watched that video three times because it named something I hadnât found words for yet.
I was a good mother. I was also scared, exhausted, and carrying more than I knew. My children got my best and also my worst moments, my unfinished edges, my fears I hadnât yet faced.
My grandchildren get whatâs left after I put all of that down. Turns out, whatâs left is actually the good stuff.
So this birthday (I turned 63 last week) I wrote some things down. Not a confession. Not an apology. A few things I know now that I wish Iâd known then. The weight Iâve finally set at the door. And the things Iâm still, honestly, wrestling with.
Iâm writing it for my kids. None of us should have to wait until weâre gone to pass on what we know. But if you find something here, that belongs to you, take it.
1. Your house doesnât need to be perfect.
It doesnât have to be sterile or pass a white-glove test. It doesnât have to look like the soft hues of a Pottery Barn spread. It doesnât need to impress anyone. Your kids donât care what your house looks like. They donât need color-coordinated sofa pillows. They only need their home to feel safe, like a warm embrace, a refuge from the outside world.
So keep those pencil marks on the wall to show how much theyâve grown, frame their crayon drawings, and display their dandelion bouquets.
2. People will come and go in your life.
Your childhood friendships may not last until youâre 40. Thatâs normal and totally ok.
I think of the friends you made in those years on the cul-de-sac â how close you all were, how permanent it seemed. And then life moved everyone like a handful of dice thrown in the air. Not all friendships survived the distance, and I know that hurts. Childhood friends know where you came from. Later friends will know who you decided to be. You need both, but the second kind you have to go find.
What I know at 63 is that new friendships can happen faster than youâd expect, and go deeper than the ones you spent decades building. You get pickier. But you also get braver about saying, âI want to know you better.â I never had that courage at 30. Thereâs less pretense â you show up as you actually are, not who you think they want to meet. And if it doesnât work out, youâre okay. Youâre not devastated. Youâve learned that some people are for a season, and thatâs enough.
3. Donât waste your time drinking.
I used to inventory it, shop for it, spend my hard-earned dollars on just the right bottle, and then choose the best occasion to drink it. The amount of mental energy I gave to âwhat should we open?â could have powered a small village. It was nothing but a means of escape. I never spent as much time chasing the ripest mango, which is food that was actually nutritious.
Looking back, I canât name one positive thing about the experience of drinking. Back then, I didnât know that it was a carcinogen. Now its widespread knowledge that alcohol contributes to 7 types of cancer and many diseases.
If thatâs not enough, it causes you to say or do regrettable things you normally wouldnât if you were sober. You will make plenty of mistakes on your own, donât let drinking make you add to your list.
Plus, you feel like crap the next day. A truly inefficient hobby.
4. Your body keeps the score, but it also keeps showing up.
The body that annoys you with its allergies and menstrual cramps is a friend, not a foe. It gives you data which you should take seriously.
Think about what this body does without being asked. Your heart has beaten roughly 100,000 times today alone without a reminder, without a thank you. It grew your children from nothing. It has carried you through every hard thing youâve ever survived, and it is still here, still showing up, still asking only that you pay attention.
When it speaks â an ache, a flutter, an exhaustion that sleep doesnât fix â listen. Itâs not betraying you. Itâs trying to tell you something.
5. You are enough. You are perfect inside and out. Really.
Youâve heard this before, but I want you to really hear it. Corporations trying to sell you something invented the standard youâre measuring yourself against. The diet and beauty industry alone is worth over a kajillion dollars, built entirely on making you feel youâre not thin or pretty enough. No one actually looks like the magazine cover. Not even the woman on it! Sheâs been smoothed and shrunk and lit within an inch of her actual humanity.
Ok, thatâs five things. I could have written fifty. But you have lives to live, and so do I.
What I can tell you is that Iâm not done learning. The list of what Iâm still wrestling with is probably longer than the list of what I know. Fear, for instance. Fear and I have reached a truce, but negotiations are ongoing. She still shows up uninvited, but she no longer runs the meeting.
Rest still feels like surrender some days.
And thereâs a voice that occasionally asks, âWho do you think you are?â Sheâs quieter now, but she hasnât left the building.
But Iâm not waiting until Iâm gone to say what I know. None of us should. I hope you take these words to heart.
Which brings me to this coming Tuesday.
Iâm so excited to welcome Mary McGreevy to Substack Live â creator of Tips from Dead People, where the departed pass on what they wished the living knew. Join us Tuesday, April 21st at 11 a.m on Substack Live. Because this conversation â about what we carry, what we pass down, and what we finally set at the door â is one worth having while weâre still here. Just click here on Tuesday. Donât worry, Iâll send you a reminder on Monday.
In the meantime, you can check out Maryâs Substack out below.
If you have Instagram, you can follow her there.
Canât wait to see you on Tuesday!




Love the subject but haven't heard of M McG. I want to make it on Tuesday but I'm not sure where to go. Passing this off to a friend with kids and grandkids. I love your writing!
I thoroughly enjoy Mary McGreevy! Great that you will be sharing her! Great read today. I am about to turn 63 myself!