I Will NOT Do It Myself!
“I do it myself!” It’s a frequently heard declaration from toddlers, much to the frustration of parents who don’t always have time for their kid to put shoes on by themself. The move toward independence is a critical developmental stage in childhood. But what does it mean when we are olders? Could giving up the need to go it alone—perhaps even before we have to (gasp!)—be a developmental stage for us?
Yes, I am capable of painting the doors leading off my family room myself. I did the walls to prepare a “pandemic classroom” for my two grandsons. Now it’s five years later, and I haven’t finished the task.
Every winter I dream of removing the laundry room’s beige-ness, the only room (with its many oil-base-paint cabinets—ugh) in my childhood home I haven’t painted in the seven years since my mother died. But I haven’t done it.
Yes, I can still climb the ladder to clean tree debris off the flat roof of the house, clearing downspouts and sweeping pooled water down them. As I’ve been doing for the past nine years. (Nothing to prove.)
I have a small chainsaw. I could make firewood of the small tree that fell last winter, that I dragged off the trail in May and left for later.
I’m pretty sure I could put new washers in the bathroom sink. But it drips on, undone.
Or . . .
I could hire the young handyman/yard maintenance guy who has been mowing my meadow—which I cannot do—and give him work over the winter months. Work that will help support his family, including two little girls at the “I do it myself” stage.
Really, what do I need to prove at the age of 73? I’ve done many things to establish to myself and anyone watching—which is no one—that I can do it myself. I am privileged to be able to afford to pay someone to do some of it (which I never thought would be the case). And I can let some things go all together. (The yard doesn’t look like it did when my father took care of it.) I have other things I want to do before it’s too late.
When my mother didn’t “do it herself,” because she no longer could, she said she was “lazy.” It made me sad that she only saw what she couldn’t do and not all that she had done. She hated being dependent on others. I think of it as interdependence: we all count on others for some aspect of our living our whole lives. I think I would like to turn some things over before I have to, while it’s a choice. Maybe I can avoid being as hard on myself as my mother was. (I may feel differently when I’m 98, but I can only live my current age.)
I ran across a recent interview with actress Mel Harris. Remember Thirtysomething, the TV show in the late ‘80s? I was thirty-something, and I loved the show. Mel, who played Hope Steadman, is 69 now. She said this, when asked about downsizing to a smaller home:
“I don’t call it downsizing, I call it resizing, actually.
I think downsizing has a negative connotation.”
Amen to that! We are so good at ageism on our own behalf. Is choosing to ask someone else to do tasks you can do yourself—maybe have been—a form of resizing? A developmental milestone? Unless, of course, you really love doing it yourself, in which case, I applaud you. There is certainly satisfaction in having done it yourself. Currently, I’m finding more satisfaction in it just being done.
I just returned from a ten-day road trip to Canada, visiting six national parks. I’m much more interested in continuing to do things like that by myself—things no one can do for me—as long as I’m able. (You can find my Canada adventure stories and photos here.)
As I settle into fall—my favorite season—I’m making a list for Jordan. Maybe I’ll make cookies for his little girls while he cleans the roof.
Happy autumn!
🍁 🍂 🍁
*Jordan did clean the roof last week, which I could have done. (Blah, blah. Someday I’ll stop adding that qualifier. I haven’t reached full enlightenment yet.) He also cleaned the pitched roof and gutters over the carport/workshop, which has rarely been done—and never by me. (I’m not stupid.) I hadn’t asked him to, but he’s just that wonderful. He discovered a broken tree limb had punctured the roof and emerged through the ceiling of the workshop above the carport. He will remove the offender and patch the roof, preventing a disaster when the rains come.
🍁 🍂 🍁
Your turn! What do you love doing yourself? What would you like someone else to do? What are your thoughts about hanging on and letting go? Leave a comment!
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Good questions!
For me, it’s as much about health than age. I know the two go hand in hand but I have limitations at 63 that I didn’t expect until much later. Oddly enough, the biggest change has been with my eyes (audiobooks instead of actually reading), but there are a few less obvious ones that I can note. While I used to enjoy working in my yard, if I grip the mower to do the lawn or spend hours bent over weeding I feel it for days after. Not worth it.
I agree with Mel about downsizing vs resizing. I have bins of things in my garage that I’ve saved because they “have value”. But to who? Obviously not me if they’re in bins in the garage. I could use that space more effectively if I can alter my definition of value a bit.
As for the much bigger questions of hanging on vs letting go? I tend to (often) hang on to things AND people well beyond what logic or circumstance may dictate. My passion, it seems, knows no bounds. But the instinct that keeps those bins in my garage past their need is the same instinct that makes me loyal to a fault in all my relationships. So how do I frame that?
Who knows? Maybe someday the part of me that hires out help for the yard will encourage me to let go of the “valuables” held in garage bins and help me step away from the relationships that no longer feel reciprocal. Time is such a mystery, isn’t it? Aging can be a great motivator when paired with awareness.
Again, great questions!
It may be about health, of course (unable to do certain tasks)—and we hit body-related limitations at different ages. Or it may be about just not wanting to do some tasks anymore. Many reasons for resizing, at whatever time and under whatever circumstances. I am advocating (maybe just for myself), for giving ourselves permission to turn over some things (if we are financially able to choose), without shame, for whatever reason. Or just letting them go—e.g. my yard! Nothing to prove.
Last year, I hired a young man to weed, edge, and mulch the gardens, a task I have always done myself. It was a game changer! And after a serious illness this year, we’ve hired a cleaner to come twice a month. It helps all of us.
Decades ago, my mom was very ill, and my daughters were very young. I didn’t know where to be: I was a mom, a daughter, a wife. I put s note above the kitchen sink, where I would see it daily:
Accept All Offers. Not an easy thing for me to do, but it was essential, and sanity preserving.
“Accept all offers.” Yes! And, maybe don’t wait for an offer. Well done! I hired a monthly cleaner last year, for the first time ever. Game changer for sure! And I hope never to take the clean tub for granted.
Debra, I love this: Accept All Offers! I’m going to make myself a sign like that today! Sometimes the most powerful act is to let go and let others.
I will make you a touchstone!
Yesterday I walked outside and stood looking at the garden thinking, I hate this! All summer it gave me so much pleasure to look at, and I happily went around deadheading flowers to encourage more growth, or pinched suckers off the tomatoes to discourage rampant growth. But like BR, I pay for days when I weed, swearing I will just do one bucket next time, or just 20 minutes. But once in, I always want to get the job done. Less trying to prove something to anyone than the satisfaction of how it looks after. But now I look out and just see the messy parts, the yelling at me parts, the demise than reflects my own body. So I hate that it’s a constant nag – who likes that? Yes, we need a gardener, and finding someone who doesn’t spray is a challenge – it means finding someone who will labor on their hands and knees. But it’s time. I gave up cleaning and most of the cooking. I’m ready to just do the things I like.
Re-sizing is on the horizon I think, but there is so much I don’t want to give up on. I hear about couples living in 800 sq ft and think, yikes, we might kill each other…. 🙂 And I love my hot tub. And I do love sitting amongst the flowers in the yard surrounded by trees and the neighbors distant. And having guests occasionally. And and and… I may wait until it’s a “have to.” Thanks for this thoughtful well-written piece.
I hear you. I got a small start on autumn cleaning, but I need to get back to the messy flower box and thinning the strawberries. I’ve gotten quite adept at sticking to an hour at a time. I’m okay once I’m in it, but I have motivation challenge. (I can’t see my meadow garden from the house. 😂)
I got lucky with Jordan. He is exactly the person I was wishing for—or could be eventually. More than, in fact, being also a handyman.
Yeah, I could only live in 800sf by myself. I can only live in 3200sf by myself too. I don’t even like it when there are strangers in the Airbnb, truth be told! I tell myself I won’t wait until I “have to” move, but that seems to be what I’m doing. Right now I’m waiting for the next administration and with it, hopefully, more economic stability. And with a move, I won’t be able to afford a Jordan or a cleaner, so I’m enjoying it now!
Having acquired a house at 67, I have more to do than I actually can do, and more than I can pay for to have done. I cede to contractors things that must be done that I cannot do. When I cannot bear the disarray of the house, I escape to the poorly maintained yards. I started out with permaculture in mind and then I discovered that I have glacial moraine (soil full of rocks), so I spend hours digging out stones and dandelions so that someday I can plant fruit trees, shrubs, bulbs, etc. I garden willingly because I like to be outside. I exercise because no one else can do that for me. I shop and cook because I live alone on a limited income and I love good food. If I could have other people do more, I would.
I get that! I can pay for help because I live in a home my parents paid for, and it produces some income. I wouldn’t need as much help if I lived in a smaller home that didn’t sit on four acres. But then I would have a mortgage/rent I couldn’t afford, and no income from it. Catch-22. I don’t even know what to plan for anymore. We carry on, right? Day-by-day, as best we can.
Yes. We carry on as best we can. I bought this house with my share of the proceeds from the sale of my mother’s house so that I would have a permanent place to live and not have to pay rent at today’s prices. It is small and in need of maintenance and the yards have been badly neglected. I accomplished my main objective and now I am dealing with the ramifications.