When men reach their sixties and retire, they go to pieces.

When Gail Sheehy observed, “When men reach their sixties and retire, they go to pieces. Women go right on cooking,” she revealed a truth about the differing rhythms of identity and purpose. For many men, bound for decades to the labors of the marketplace and the forge of profession, the sudden end of work leaves them adrift, their sense of self torn away with the passing of career. Yet women, long anchored in the constancy of daily care, carry on with unbroken purpose, their lives flowing in a stream less defined by endings.

The ancients would see in this the parable of roles. The Roman farmer, upon laying down his plow in old age, often despaired, for his worth had been tethered to his land. But the matron, tending fire and family, continued her rituals unchanged, her strength drawn not from fleeting titles but from ceaseless duty. Sheehy’s words echo this: that while men often crumble when their outer crowns are removed, women, sustained by the simple yet eternal act of cooking, endure with quiet resilience.

History bears witness. Consider the aftermath of wars, when soldiers returned broken, unable to find meaning without the roar of battle. Many men “went to pieces” in those years of silence. Yet in the same households, it was often women who preserved life—kneading bread, boiling soup, keeping alive the pulse of family and community. Their constancy became the anchor of survival, a reminder that true strength is found not in what ends, but in what continues.

Her words also unveil a deeper wisdom: that resilience lies not in grandeur but in continuity. Cooking becomes a symbol of the eternal, the repetitive yet sacred act that affirms life day after day. Where retirement signals rupture, the ongoing act of nurturing signals steadiness. It is a lesson that permanence is not always to be found in achievements carved in stone, but in humble labors that never cease.

Thus, let Sheehy’s teaching be carried forward: tie not your worth to crowns that can be stripped away, but to labors that endure. Let us learn from the women who, through the constancy of their care, embody strength that does not falter with age. For when fleeting roles fall away, it is the eternal rhythm of nurture, of service, of giving, that sustains the spirit and prevents it from going to pieces.