A friend of mine mentioned Steven Petrow’s nonfiction book, Stupid Things I Won’t Do When I Get Old on his Facebook page, so I picked it up. As with any book of advice or essays, there were pieces that struck me, and some that I actually skimmed through because I had no interest. I was interested because the author (and my friend) are both my age.
The book is broken into three sections. The first one, “Stupid Things I Won’t Do Today”, is my least favorite part. Petrow admits he started with a somewhat snarky list, “A highly judgmental, unapologetically honest accounting of all the things our elders are doing wrong.” When he started the book, his parents were still alive, and this book was quite judgmental as he and his siblings dealt with his father, and then his mother who had dementia. His first section is called “Stupid Things I Won’t Do Today”, when he was sixty. The two later sections, “Stupid Things I Won’t Do Tomorrow” and “Stupid Things I Won’t Do at ‘The End”. Both those sections show more compassion than the first one.
Petrow asks “When does old begin?” Although he has his own opinion, he quotes former President Jimmy Carter from his book, The Virtues of Aging, with a thoughtful answer. “The correct answer is each of us is old when we think we are – when we accept an attitude of dormancy, dependence on others, a substantial limitation on our physical and mental activity…. This is not tied closely to how many years we’ve lived.”
Really, that’s the overall theme of the book, not letting old age cripple us. Petrow says, “Don’t let your own fears of getting old override judgement and kinder self.”
Instead of seeing what Petrow saw, I’m lucky. My mother is my role model, and I see in her some of the best of aging. She walks every day. One of Petrow’s comments says, “I won’t limit myself to friends my own age.” My mother has friends who are older than her, but also friends who are twenty-some years younger. And, she’s a good neighbor who has good neighbors. They all look out for each other. One of my sisters and I are both worriers. Mom is not. Petrow, who is a worrier, says, “Wait to worry.” Don’t worry about all the what ifs.
That last section, “Stupid Things I Won’t Do at ‘The End” is the one that struck me the most. Petrow suggests writing your own obituary. Make sure you have your paperwork ready. Where do you want to be buried? What do you want for a funeral? And, he has a section that made me cry about a friend, Jacquie, who knew she was dying from cancer and wrote letters to her children for them to open at important moments in their lives. The section, “I Won’t Let Anything Stop Me from saying I Love You…and Goodbye.” That part really hit me. My husband, Jim, knew he was dying of cancer and didn’t have long to live. He called his three best friends and told them goodbye. It was hard for them, but he felt better that he told them he loved them, and goodbye.
As I said, there were sections that didn’t mean a thing to me, so I skipped those. But, there was enough meat in Stupid Things I Won’t Do When I Get Old that made the book worth reading.
Steven Petrow’s website is https://stevenpetrow.com/.
Stupid Things I Won’t Do When I Get Old by Steven Petrow with Roseann Foley Henry. Citadel Press, 2021. ISBN 9780806541006 (hardcover), 257p.
FTC Full Disclosure – Library book
I rarely read anything except mysteries, but this caught my attention, and I was able to get the audiobook from the library. Thank you for this and all of your recommendations.
Thank you, Gina! As I said, there were chapters I skimmed, and you might find the same. Fortunately, they’re short chapters.
The judgmental parts are parts that I could not bear to read. I wonder why he is that way. When I was a counseling intern at I.U, I had a client who blamed his parents for everything in his life, he didn’t take responsibility for himself at all. I had trouble tolerating. Then at the end of the second session, he pinched my bottom as we leaving and I told him that I could no longer see him. The memory was triggered by what you said about the way he talked about his parents.
I do like the part about facing death and about your husband calling his friends to say good-bye. I had a blogger friend who lived in Utah and we shared so much of our feelings and experiences through the years. She contacted me when she was in a lot of pain and I convinced her to call an ambulance for the hospital. She knew that she was dying. She had a cat that she had loved so much over the years and gave the cat to friend to take care when she could not do it anymore.
After an hour that she had been seen in the hospital, they told her that she had a flesh eating bacteria and it was too late to treat. All they could do was give her something for the pain and she would probably would live for about two more hours. She spent her last hour writing me. I will always hold her in my heart as a dear friend.
Carol, what a sad story about your Utah blogger friend. I can imagine you treasure especially the final words she wrote to you. She must have been very frightened but thankful to have you ‘with her’. I’m sure she felt less alone because of you.
Oh, Carol. I’m so sorry about your friend from Utah. She had so little time to acknowledge she was dying.
You’re right. It wasn’t easy to read the judgmental parts, but it also made me realize I do that at times.
That last part about your husband struck a real chord, as Bill Crider did that, called us and some of his other friends to say goodbye before the end. It was tough for us, we didn’t know what to say, but I’m glad now that he did it. We still miss him.
As for the rest, today is my birthday and if I said how old I am – OK, I’m 76 – a lot of people would say, “wow, you’re old.” But I don’t feel old at all! I mean, when I think back on certain things in my life, I know it was a long time ago – next year will be the 60th anniversary of graduating high school! – but in a lot of ways I still feel the way I did when we were young and just starting out. I hope we’ll have many more years, but to me the key element is physical and mental health. I’ve known much younger people with serious health issues, and it can make a huge difference in quality of life.
As for the book, it does sound like something I would read. Thanks for reviewing it.
OK, why I still basically love the internet, despite all it’s faults: I just went on the library website and downloaded a copy of this book to my Kindle.
PS – What Carol said up there rang a bell, as my youngest sister still blames my parents (who died over 10 years ago) for everything wrong in her life.
“When you get called Ma’am instead of miss” really rang a bell. When we were first married, we lived in what was then still an older, Italian-American enclave of Brooklyn that is now impossibly trendy, Carroll Gardens. (If you are over 30 you are clearly a “foreigner” we joke every time we go there.) We often shopped at a small grocery store/supermarket where the woman among the three siblings who owned the place called every young-ish woman “girly.” Naturally, we called her “girly” as in “Go to Girly’s and get milk.” Jackie knew things had changed the day “girly” started calling her “ma’am.”
Wishing you the happiest of birthdays Jeff! I hope your day will be special from beginning to end, and full of all the things you enjoy most.
Thank you, Lindy, so glad that she was my friend,
Jeff, Happy Birthday! Hope it will be a terrific day. I always add new books to my pile based upon what you have read! Thank you!
Happy Birthday!~Jeff 🎂 I still don’t feel old and I am two years older than you. May we never feel old!
Happy Birthday, Jeff! I agree with you. Physical and mental health can make a big difference. I’ve had to deal with some physical issues this year, and that’s slowed me down some. I hope you and Jackie continue to enjoy good health! It makes such a difference.
And, 76 doesn’t sound at all old to me.
I know how hard it was for Jim’s friends to get that call. I never really thought about it, though, that it’s so hard to know what to say when you get that phone call. And, I’m sure Bill Crider knew people wouldn’t know what to say.
Thank you for the “Girly” story. That made me smile. Here’s my story. When I started working in libraries, and, for years, I was the youngest on staff. By the time I retired, almost all the other staff members called me “Miss Lesa”. From being the youngest to having an honorific title.
I love that library story! Jackie started teaching in 1970 and by the late 1990s she was the second longest-serving teacher on the staff and was obsessed with not being the “last man standing” at her school. As it turned out, in the last few years she moved (at the Superintendent’s request) to two other schools to help out and show others the ropes, and she ended up at the District and then Region levels, often telling Principals what to do, though technically she was on a teacher line. But she was never the “last man standing”!
Fortunately, I wasn’t either, Jeff! Thanks for sharing Jackie’s story. And, I wouldn’t have wanted to be the “last man standing” either!
Touching and useful exchange of ideas, everyone! Lesa, it’s wonderful that you have your mother’s way of dealing with age as a role model. I’ll add a story about saying goodbye. My father couldn’t speak during the last four or five months of his life, but he could understand fine. My mother wrote or called a number of people who cared about him (personal and work friends), told them about his situation, and asked them to write to him. She said she knew that after he died, they’d write to her about what he’d meant to them, so she asked them to write those sentiments
to HIM instead, so he could appreciate his role in others’ lives before he died. The notes ands letter came in, ands they meant so much to him. I thought my mother was very wise to do that.
If we’re all leaving stories about saying goodbye, maybe I’ll add one too. Although it’s more one about not saying goodbye.
For the last four years of her life my mom was in a ‘care home’ an hour’s drive away. I visited weekly on one of my two days off work. I could always hear her long before I got to her room – chanting ‘no no no no no no’ over and over. I’d go in and calm her down and we’d chat for the next couple of hours. By the time I left she was always fine.
Then came Covid and very suddenly no one was allowed to receive visitors. You were only allowed to come see your parent if they were dying. Two months into that, my brother and I got the call. I went immediately. I had to be gowned, masked, and gloved.
By that point though, my poor mom was beyond even knowing there was someone in the room with her. She was pale, so gaunt, had clearly not had any personal hygiene care for quite some time. It will always be one of the saddest moments of my life to see her like that.
We did not get to say goodbye.
Lindy, I’m so sorry. What a heartbreaking way to see your mother at the end, and to not get to say goodbye. I’m sorry.
Oh, Kim. Your mother was so wise. It’s wonderful to know how much you were appreciated, and how much you meant to others.
There are some thoughtful ideas in the book, but some that are even better right here.
Well you made me cry and also smile. I’m going through a very bad time as my husband has dementia and is now in a care home. I’m trying to learn to live by myself which I have never done. I am very thankful that I have books to transport me to different scenarios. I always love your site as it is comforting knowing what things we have to deal with in life.
Oh, Donna. I’m so sorry. I think it’s so much harder for the person left behind because your husband doesn’t really know that he’s missing you, and you’re missing the person he always was.
Thank you. I hope this site and the people who write here give you a little bit of comfort in a difficult time when you have to learn to live without him, but also live on your own.
Virtual hugs don’t help much, but I’m thinking of you.
Thanks so much for your kind words – it helps. I always feel like we are a community joined together by our love of books.
Donna, I’m so happy you feel that way, and know you have a community here.