What do you want to be when you grow up? It’s a question we often get asked or ask ourselves when we’re young, when we’re trying to discern our future life, career and calling. Then we stop asking. We just lean into the lives we build and stop reimagining who we’ll be when we “grow up” and get older and better. Why do we do this when there’s still so much more to be? Why do we do this when there is the very important work of self-legacy-building to accomplish?

It is my humble opinion that we should start asking ourselves better questions about the kind of older adults we want to be, and all the roles associated. And we need to do that now if we want to design a legacy that feels authentic and meaningful and appropriate to our special brand of self. What kind of parent of adult children do I want to be? How do I want to make them feel? What can I do right now to be that kind of parent, to make good on my vision of mother-of-adult-children greatness? What kind of weird aunt, cousin, friend, godmother and mentor do I want to be? And one day, with all fingers crossed, what kind of grandmother or great grandmother do I want to be to the next generation of family members?

These are deep, but important questions.

But I don’t think we become who we want to be when we grow up without asking them.

When I think about what kind of mom I want to be in this season of life, I have a few non-negotiables: I want to be unconditionally loving and demonstrate it physically and emotionally; I want to be available and present and be a go-to person for listening and collaboration and guidance; and I want to make them feel confident, well equipped and utterly supported to handle anything difficult or seize any opportunity that comes their way. I want them to feel prioritized but not coddled. Basically, it is my goal to make them feel loved no matter what.

As a friend, I have many of the same visions for myself. Same goes for many of my other roles. The grandmother hat, though. Whew. That one will have some even greater measures. I obsessively imagine what kind of Meemaw I will be. And hopefully thinking about it intentionally at least inspires some good behaviors down the road. I relish the thought.

Then I wonder, how do our own experiences as a mom, grandmother, friend flavor the vision? Are we hardwired to be like our own parents and family members as we design our own legacies? The answer is likely yes, but to what extent…who knows?

My grandmother, Grandmother, and great-grandmother, Mama Pennye, are pictured above with my cousins, brother and me at La Bahia State Park in Goliad TX many moons ago. I hope to model some of their best qualities in my grandma legacy-building, but not all of them. I aim to be just as loving and prayerful and patient as Grandmother, but more confident and less concerned about the size of my feet than she was. (She wore a Woman’s size 10 shoe and hated herself for it) Mama Pennye? Well, I wouldn’t mind being just like her — always laughing despite her deafness and always long on cans of cheeseballs and orange Fanta. But maybe I’ll aim to be a little bit better about making community a priority as I age. Pennye lived solo in Karnes City TX for most of her life and I would guess she wrestled with loneliness in her 102 years.

Maybe this legacy-building exercise is all about reflection — thinking strategically and lovingly about our DNA and the possibilities of our own designed experience. It starts with questions like these and a promise to embrace new habits and behaviors that develop the legacy we envision:

1. When people I love tell stories about me one day, what do I hope they say?
2. How do I want others to feel in my presence—and after they leave it?
3. What values do I most want to model consistently, not just talk about?
4. Am I showing up in a way today that aligns with the person I say I want to be?
5. What lessons do I hope the next generation carries forward because of me?
6. Where am I holding back—emotionally, relationally, or generously—that I might regret later?
7. What does “being present” actually look like in my closest relationships right now?
8. How do I want to handle conflict, forgiveness, and repair in my relationships?
9. If my time or capacity changed suddenly, what would matter most—and am I prioritizing that now?
10. What intentional actions can I take this year to live my legacy, not just leave it?

Who do I want to be when I grow up? What kind of older adult do I want to become? These are critical questions! And it’s not just about being a parent or a grandparent or a friend…it’s about how we will age and what kind of patient we will be. It all spills over. Let’s start asking the questions now as we dance into our second half lives with inspired visions of what can and will be.