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I’m a 76-year-old retiree who travels often with my grandma friends. We’re learning that the secret to healthy aging is adventure.

by with No Comment Xpandfy

This journey started with me feeling sorry for myself.

Sixteen years ago, I was single and about to become an empty nester. That brought up regrets. I had always wanted to get an RV and travel across the US with my kids, but that never happened.

But instead of wallowing in my past mistakes, I decided to think outside the box and find a way to make travel a reality. With my web design business, I could work from anywhere.

I thought of a friend of mine, Ginny, who was a freelance graphic designer, a grandmother, and single. She would be the perfect companion.

Then the name came to me: Two Grannies on the Road.

I’ve brought several grandmas on the road with me

The next several years brought changes, but the dream remained. We started filming our journeys, interviewing baby boomers who had reinvented themselves after retirement. But then Ginny retired from her business and Two Grannies. I continued doing the show with Debbie, another retired grandmother.

By then, we had some new skills in our toolbox: videography, hosting, interviewing, and editing film.

We decided that it would be fun to visit every city and town in Massachusetts, all 351. But not long after we began this quest, Debbie decided to move a thousand miles away.

Within a month, I met Marcia, a retired nurse with six grandchildren, a love for travel, and lots of energy. We have been traveling all over Massachusetts ever since then, recently achieving the milestone of visiting one-third of all the cities and towns.


Beth Sobiloff's toyota with

The author travels around in her Toyota. 

Courtesy of Beth Sobiloff



Marcia and I do everything, from planning the day to filming, interviewing, editing, and posting on social media.

This may seem like a big compromise from the original plan to travel across the country. However, I see it as a series of pivots that got me to a place where I’m having a blast, learning a lot, and meeting great people.

We’re having the time of our lives

We usually have breakfast and lunch in every town that we visit, and I can honestly say that we’ve never had a bad meal. We’ve eaten at diners that haven’t changed their prices in 15 years. We’ve been to a feast in an historic restaurant where they cook prime rib on a rotisserie over a huge fireplace. The meal includes a horse-drawn wagon ride, mulled wine or cider, fish chowder made over the fire, and homemade apple pie with a huge dollop of freshly whipped cream. We’ve had Indian, Egyptian, Thai, Hungarian, and Italian cuisine.

I have gravitated to local farms, where we have sampled fresh apples, cider, peaches, strawberries, cranberries, maple syrup, and sweet potatoes, to name a few. We’ve cuddled cows, fed alpacas, watched sheep being sheared, and held baby goats.

Marcia is partial to local shops that house several antique dealers, collectors, and crafters, as well as country stores that stock many locally made items.

We’ve watched bread, savory pies, pretzels, cider doughnuts, roasted coffee, ice cream, and organic mulch being made. We’ve even gotten our hands dirty with clay, dough, and paint.

We keep meeting people who are starting new lives after retirement

We met a school superintendent who took early retirement and opened a bakery. He now admits to working harder than he ever did before. Not to mention, his baked goods are incredible.

We’ve also met a former schoolteacher who had been collecting coins since he was a kid, and now has the world’s largest collection of “Back to the Future” memorabilia, including three Deloreans.

I’ll never forget the woman who ran the Iditarod in Alaska and now runs a business offering trail rides with her huskies and camps for kids, teaching them how to care for and train the dogs.

Retirement is what you make it

We enjoy hearing from people who have been inspired to explore more, go to a restaurant they had never heard of, visit a museum they had been meaning to visit, or go to a shop they hadn’t been to in a while.

What we get out of doing this is in line with healthy aging. We are staying physically and mentally active, engaging with others, and learning new things. And yes, an occasional bowl of ice cream is part of the prescription.

Marcia’s attitude toward retirement is that she gets to create her own schedule rather than operate on someone else’s. She spends her time pursuing many passions, including traveling, arts and crafts, and visiting with family and friends.

My attitude is that I will never consider myself retired if I have dreams to pursue.




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My dad died 3 years ago. I’m learning how to celebrate the holidays without him.

by with No Comment Xpandfy

Walking by the holiday decorations, I see the lights. It’s hard to miss them since they’re everywhere — blinking from plastic trees and dangling from the ceiling. It’s undoubtedly a well-lit wonderland, but I don’t stop to look. That is, I can’t stop.

The colored lights are an instant reminder of my dad. Memories of him carefully placing his favorite strings of blue lights on our tree bring a jagged emptiness. It’s been three years since my father died unexpectedly, and the holidays continue to deliver quite the gut punch.

I’m learning what to do with my holiday grief

Holiday grief is something I didn’t anticipate unwrapping every year. When my father passed away from a sudden heart attack, my family fell into a kind of shock. He was in good health and only a few months before, had a routine checkup with no abnormalities. His passing didn’t make sense.

In the weeks after he left us, we did all the things you do, helping my mom as best we could, but we weren’t prepared. Now, I’m a statistic fitting in with the 76% of adults who’ve lost a parent before age 59, and the 36% who don’t want to celebrate the holidays due to feelings of grief. I am 100% certain that I haven’t figured out how to do the holidays without him.

It’s the seemingly insignificant things that sneak up and trigger my grief: My first Christmas without him, I walked past the kitchen counter and, without thinking, looked for my great-grandmother’s cookie cutter. My dad used it to shape Oma’s cookies, and while he was cutting the dough, I’d hear him ask with a grin, “Did I ever tell you the story about when I was in high school, and Oma made me a secret plate of cookies?” Yes, every Christmas.

Then there were the batteries. As my dad tells it, when I was around 8, and my younger sister was 4, “Santa” forgot to buy batteries for our electronic presents. Batteries were definitely not included, and my dad drove to all the gas stations and grocery stores within a 30-mile radius only to find them closed, because, well, it was Christmas morning. “And that’s why I always have extra batteries,” Dad would explain as he slid open the stuffed-full (but well-organized) battery drawer.

These memories of cookies, batteries, and family stories all play on repeat in my head. The emptiness follows suit, and then the sadness takes its place. I can’t untangle my dad’s memories from any of our holiday rituals. So, how do I celebrate without him?

By telling family stories, I’m staying connected to my dad

Last year, my 11-year-old and I were enjoying the stillness by the Christmas tree when it occurred to me to ask: “Did you know Papa’s favorite colored lights were blue?” I told him how I grew up with all blue lights because Papa loved them so much. “And he had a system for stringing them closer to the trunk because Papa said, ‘It made the tree glow.'”

We sat together for a breath staring at the lights, and out of nowhere, my son flung his arms around my neck and gave me a surprise hug. “I like Papa’s stories,” he whispered. And just like that, a new tradition was born. My dad told the stories that meant the most to him, and now I have ones to add — all about my father. Family stories keep us connected, and it’s this ritual that helps me through the holidays. So, I’ll keep going.

“Did you hear the one about the time Oma made a secret plate of cookies for your Papa,” I asked. When my son looked up, the glow of the blue lights reflected in his eyes, and for an instant, I felt like maybe Papa wasn’t as far away as I thought.




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