So What Do Retired Grandparents Get Up To In A Day?

Lives begin at different starting points. The more financially assured are symbolic of hares — folks with a better head start in life. On the flip side, most average Singaporeans (like the writers of this story) are born tortoises — we hustle steadily and slowly save to get through the much-dreaded #adulting. Depending on one’s circumstances and family history, resources—and in turn, lifestyles—can greatly differ.

In the classic tale of The Tortoise and The Hare, the biggest lesson is about the consequence of complacency. Tortoise, hare, or human, no one comes out on top from getting lulled into sleepy comfort and contentness.

The same can be said about building capital for retirement and beyond. Stay complacent enough about the amount of savings you have, and everything could be wiped out on a rainy day. That leaves little money for oneself, much less money for the next of kin. In other words, don’t be foolish enough not to plan for the future.

But it’s hard to imagine the financial plight of our future selves. To understand how thoughtful planning results in varied outcomes and aspirations among those in their retirement years, we spent some time with two grandparents who walked different paths.

The first thing that Madam Saleha asked me after I salam her (that Malay ritual where you kiss the hands of your elders) is if I wanted to order some Thai food on Grab. She insisted on the cash-on-delivery option, wanting to pay for the pineapple fried rice, mango salad, minced beef with basil, and other items that amounted to nearly $80.

Too late. Her granddaughter refused to let the 79-year-old retiree dole out a single cent and had already tapped the order button with the payment charged to her card. It’s a pretty standard scene that plays out among Malay families: the younger kin refusing to let their elders pay when it comes to meals.

“Hehe, thank you!” the septuagenarian eventually relented, settling back into her armchair, holding a wad of $50 notes in her hand—the cash that her granddaughter just gave as a monthly allowance. Filial piety and all that jazz.

Saleha isn’t her real name though; she requested to keep her identity anonymous. What I can tell you is that she and her husband have been together for 60 years. I can tell you that they both live with their daughter, son-in-law, four grandchildren, domestic helper, and a bunch of cats in a capacious HDB apartment in Pasir Ris.

l can also tell you that the cupboard where she stores her baju butterfly is the same place where she has $12,000 in cash squirrelled away. That’s about a thousand times more than what she had in her bank account when she got married at 19 years of age.

“I wanted to climb out of that situation,” she recalled about the days with little to her name, pledging to hustle hard to build a family.

And hustle she did. Like most people in Singapore’s pioneer generation, Mdm Saleha took on a multitude of jobs—any jobs—to sustain themselves. While her husband went into education and shipping, she climbed her way into managerial roles in logistics, catering and hospitality.

She forgets how much she earned in those jobs (“So long ago, how to remember!”) but it was substantial enough for her to start investing and buying up multiple properties in Singapore, Malaysia and Jakarta. Honestly, it’s impressive. And they’ve all provided a sweet return on investment, though she hesitates to reveal just how much she racked up.

“I just managed to do it,” she says with more than a twinkle in her eye.

Putting the hows aside, I asked her about the whys. The sparkle in her eye turned watery. All that hustling, all that strategic asset planning—it was always for the kids; their two daughters who grew up in comfortable environments and now have families of their own. 

These days though, she has given it all up to live a simple life with her daughter and grandchildren. Surprisingly, as someone with hundreds of thousands of dollars stored in her accounts after cashing in on her investments and properties, Mdm Saleha and her husband live modestly. They share a double bed in a spartan room with a small television. Medication, pills and supplements are tucked away on a small table. Their daily routines revolve around playing with their young grandkids, short walks around the neighbourhood and watching whatever’s on the telly.

There’s a reason behind living frugally — all the wealth that she built could be undone without thoughtful planning or lifestyle adjustments on her end. As we tucked into our desserts, it’s clear that they’ve never fancied the high life. Macaroons, panna cottas and parfaits? Nah, just chendol and some durian for them, thanks.

Perhaps it’s this hardline principle towards prudence that enabled her to accumulate assets so easily. To Mdm Saleha, money is no issue at all. There’s the occasional splurge to go on holidays overseas during The Before Time, but that’s pretty much it. Otherwise, the money stays in her bank account (and her cupboard) to stretch out as long as possible throughout retirement.

As confident as this grandmother was in her savings—she’s got more money to her name than the funds of both her daughters combined, she reckoned—there’s always the danger of having it all obliterated by unexpected financial burdens. Leaving little to pass on to her children and grandchildren.

I have to admit, I struggled to even broach the subject of legacy planning, the financial strategy to bequeath assets and wealth to the next of kin after death. Culturally, it’s just not good etiquette to talk about death—much less post-death affairs—with an elder.

After some poor attempts to dance around the subject, she gets the hint.

“I haven’t really planned anything, to be honest. I trust my daughters to split my assets equally because I raised them to be sensible people,” she affirmed. In the hustle to snowball enough funds for a decent livelihood for the family, the official affairs of her wealth after going beyond the veil had not mattered that much to her.

But it does matter, I brought up. Tailoring exactly how she would like to distribute her assets would at least give her peace of mind about how her kids and grandkids will carry on. If she has the capacity to plan things out, why not?

She laughed it off. For Mdm Saleha, there was never a doubt that her daughters and their families will get along just fine even without her help. Like her, they’ve learned to be fiercely independent women who aren’t dependent on anyone else but themselves.

She does know, however, that her middle-aged kids will end up inheriting a substantial amount that’ll ensure they continue living in comfort for the rest of their lives.

Leaving the HDB flat with a genuine sense of admiration (and more than a tinge of envy) over her nonchalant frame of mind towards wealth and assets, I wonder what the thought process is like for other retirees who aren’t as privileged.