Most families have someone everyone hopes will be at the table. Not necessarily the funniest person or the one with the most to say. Just someone whose company makes the evening better. They ask good questions, tell a story or two, laugh easily and leave people feeling a little more at ease than when they arrived.
That kind of presence doesn't depend on age. But getting older can test it. Energy changes, friends move or die, and it can be tempting to retreat into routines, grievances or the same few stories.
Ancient writers thought about this too. When Confucius's students asked him what he most wished for, he answered: "That the old are content with me, my friends trust me, and the young cherish me" (Analects 5.26, Robert Eno's translation). Being good company, at any age, is a large part of earning that. Here are eight habits drawn from Cicero, Plato and others.
1. They make people feel welcome
At the start of Plato's Republic, Socrates visits an elderly man named Cephalus, who greets him warmly. Cephalus explains that he can no longer easily travel into the city, so he asks Socrates to visit more often and treat the house as a place among old friends. His reason is simple: "the more the pleasures of the body fade away, the greater to me is the pleasure and charm of conversation" (Republic 1.328d, Benjamin Jowett's translation).
It's a gentle nudge, but it lands as an invitation rather than a complaint. Cephalus is honest that he can't get around as easily, and he turns that into a reason to bring people together.
The everyday version might be an open door for Sunday lunch, a standing coffee with a neighbor, or a message that says "Come by whenever you're near" and means it. People are more likely to return to places where they feel genuinely wanted.
2. They answer honestly when someone asks what lies ahead
Socrates replies that he enjoys talking with older people because he sees them as "travellers who have gone a journey which I too may have to go." He wants to know whether the road ahead is smooth or rugged (1.328e).
Younger people often have the same question, even if they don't put it that way. What was it like to change careers at fifty? How did you cope when your parents got sick? Was retirement what you expected?
The answers that help most tend to be honest about both the smooth parts and the rugged ones. A well-told account of what went wrong, and what you'd do differently, can be more useful than reassurance that everything works out.
3. They tell their stories without taking over
In Cicero's dialogue On Old Age, the elderly statesman Cato admits that talking about himself is "an old man's way and is generally allowed to my time of life." He points to Homer's Nestor, who often talked of his own good qualities without seeming vain or tiresome, because "from his lips flowed discourse sweeter than honey" (On Old Age ch. 9, Evelyn Shuckburgh's translation).
Cato's defense of Nestor rests on the quality of the stories: they were true and worth hearing. Not every story clears that bar, and most families can recite at least one that has been told a few too many times.
A practical approach is to keep stories short, check that they connect to what others are talking about, and follow one with a question: "Has anything like that happened to you?" A story that invites another story tends to keep the conversation going.
4. They enjoy younger people, and it shows
Cato rejects a line from a Roman playwright claiming that the worst thing about old age is that the young dislike the old. "Delight in them is nearer the mark than dislike," he says (ch. 8). Wise older people, in his view, enjoy the company of the young, while the young find something worth learning from the old.
Notice that he describes pleasure running in both directions. The older person enjoys the energy and ideas of the young, and the young find something useful in the older person's experience.
That kind of exchange depends partly on curiosity. Asking a grandchild to explain a game, a colleague to walk you through new software or a neighbor's teenager about their music, and actually being interested in the answer, can do more for a relationship than a lot of advice.
5. They keep interests of their own
Cato admires "an old one who has something of a young man," and adds that someone who aims at this "may possibly become old in body," but "in mind he never will" (ch. 11). What he describes in practice, though, is less about seeming young than about staying engaged. In his eighties, he is writing a history, collecting old records and preparing his speeches for publication.
Interests give people something to ask you about, and give you something fresh to bring to a conversation. A new book, a class or a trip you're planning can do that. So can an established interest: a garden you've tended for years, a favorite period of history or a longstanding hobby can keep curiosity alive without your constantly starting something new.
6. They make gatherings about the company
Cato says he never measured a dinner by its food so much as "by the gathering and conversation of friends." He praises the Roman word for a dinner party, convivium, meaning "a living together," as better than Greek terms meaning "a drinking together" or "an eating together," which "give the preference to what is really the least important part of it" (ch. 13).
He adds that he is "thankful to old age, which has increased my avidity for conversation," and describes dinners with neighbors "which we prolong as far into the night as we can with varied conversation" (ch. 14).
A modern version might mean worrying less about a perfect meal and more about who's at the table. A simple dinner, a picnic or tea in the afternoon can all be a "living together" if the focus is on talking and listening.
7. They don't let grievances turn sour
Cato acknowledges the stereotype that older people are fretful and disagreeable, but he insists these "are faults of character, not of the time of life." He's also sympathetic about where they come from: feeling neglected or looked down on, and the way bodily pain makes small irritations harder to bear. Then he adds an image: "just as it is not every wine, so it is not every life, that turns sour from keeping" (ch. 18).
That balance matters. Feeling overlooked, being in pain or grieving can make anyone short-tempered, and those feelings deserve care rather than judgment. Cato's point is that they don't have to harden into bitterness.
When the same worry keeps returning, ask what would help: a direct conversation, a practical change, or someone willing to listen. Sharing a difficult experience is part of friendship. The habit to watch is letting one unresolved grievance crowd out every other conversation.
8. They know when to hand over
Back in the Republic, Cephalus takes part in the opening of the discussion about justice, then excuses himself once Socrates starts questioning his view. "I hand over the argument to Polemarchus and the company," he says. Polemarchus is his son and heir, and Cephalus, according to Socrates, "went away laughing to the sacrifices" (1.331d).
We can borrow that moment as an image of sharing the floor. A conversation can carry on warmly when someone else takes the lead.
Today that might mean stepping back from running the family holiday, letting a younger colleague lead a project you used to own, or simply allowing a debate at the dinner table to continue without needing the last word. Sharing responsibility leaves room for other people to contribute while you remain part of the occasion.
Being good company isn't only up to you
These habits matter, but they're not the whole story. Many older people are isolated because of hearing loss, mobility, bereavement, distance from family or a lack of transport, not because of anything they're doing wrong. And it's worth remembering that Cicero's Cato was wealthy and powerful. Early in the dialogue, one of his young listeners points out that his means and position may make old age easier for him than for most, and Cato concedes there is something in that (ch. 3).
Others share the responsibility, too. Families, neighbors and communities can make it easier for older people to stay connected, and being valued shouldn't depend on being entertaining. In many cultures, elders are central to family life simply because of who they are.
If loneliness has been settling in, it's worth reaching out, even in small ways: calling an old friend, joining a group built around an interest, or talking with a doctor if low mood is making it harder to connect.
One place to start
At your next family meal or catch-up, ask one person a real question about their life. Listen, ask a follow-up, and share a short related story if it fits naturally.
It's a modest step. But as Cato suggests, the best gatherings are less about what's on the table than about the living together that happens around it.
