The Luckiest Man Alive: Lessons on Longevity from My 89-Year-Old Grandad
Last weekend, I visited my grandad — a man I’ve long suspected might be one of the most extraordinary of his generation. At 89, he still radiates the kind of grounded vitality that no supplement, serum, or fitness tracker can replicate. He’s my mum’s father, a lifelong farmer from the Isle of Wight — a small, wind-swept island at the edge of England — who, in his fifties, decided to retire early, build a boat in his barn, and sail around the world.
Yes, he literally built a boat. By hand. In his barn.
He went on to cross oceans, explore the Pacific Islands, and even took my mum along on her gap year — where they survived waves taller than houses and were, as she likes to tell it, “made an honorary man by local officials.” It sounds like a novel, but it was simply life.
Now, nearing ninety, he’s unstoppable: driving, rowing, playing tennis twice a week, sailing his canal boat, managing his home, cooking every meal himself. Spending the weekend with him, I couldn’t help noticing a few defining habits that might explain his remarkable longevity.
1. He believes he’s lucky — and that belief might be everything.
Over tea, my grandad told story after story — about bombs that missed him during WWII, about finding the love of his life, making smart decisions, staying healthy, and seeing the world. Each tale ended the same way: “I’ve been very lucky.”
But when you look closer, that “luck” was almost always the product of courage, curiosity, and action. The takeaway? His mindset is one of gratitude, not chance. He decides he’s lucky — and that quiet optimism has become a kind of force field around his life.
2. He never stops moving.
“Tennis twice a week, rowing twice a week, walking every other day — rain or shine,” he says. Then he adds, with a grin: “Don’t sit down too long, or you might not get back up.”
Movement isn’t a chore for him; it’s simply life. And just as he keeps his body active, he keeps his mind sharp — reading the papers, engaging in lively debates, driving himself to see friends, and constantly problem-solving.
3. He nurtures lifelong connections.
His social world is astonishing. He knows where every friend has ended up, who’s lost their partner, who’s still playing tennis. If that means taking a boat and three trains to have lunch with a lifelong friend — he goes.
Connection, after all, might be one of the most underrated markers of longevity.
4. He eats real food — and enjoys every bite.
Breakfast is his favorite ritual: one fried egg, two rashers of bacon, and a slice of walnut toast with butter and homemade blackcurrant jam. (Apricot jam is reserved for Wednesdays, to remind him to take the bins out.)
He drinks decaf in the morning, “real” coffee later in the day, and admits his only weakness is Mackie’s Scottish Ice Cream — “the best,” he insists. Dinner is simple: soup, cheese, bread, and fruit with a dash of cream.
What stands out isn’t what he avoids, but how balanced and joyful his relationship with food is. No diets. No restriction. No processed snacks. Just whole foods, small portions, and genuine pleasure.
5. He moves through loss — but never stops living.
My grandad has lost two incredible partners to cancer. It would be easy for that kind of grief to harden a person. But instead, he seems to soften — meeting life again with humor and grace.
He jokes about his “new girlfriend” at nearly ninety, but there’s something profound in that. He refuses to let loss define him. His mantra: “Life goes on. You must go on with it.”
The quiet secret of a long, beautiful life
There’s something sacred about being around someone who’s lived this long and still greets every day with curiosity, purpose, and gratitude. My grandad’s life isn’t guided by wellness trends, superfoods, or biohacks — but by something deeper and harder to market: joy, resilience, and a belief in his own luck.
It makes me wonder if the true secret to longevity isn’t in what we add to our lives, but in how much we appreciate what’s already there.
xx omayma
