Retirement

My entire work life, I dreamed of retirement and all that it would mean. In my imagination, it meant sleeping late, no demanding boss, a flexible schedule with lots of time to do nothing, and no commute; I could stay home! No more traveling unless for pleasure. Nirvana!

Now it’s here and has been for quite some time, but it’s not what I had dreamed of. Firstly, I don’t sleep late, not even on weekends. What the heck? It’s mainly because it hurts too much to stay in bed, my body tends to get quite stiff if I am still for long periods, so I’m up at six every morning, which is great because it allows me to have my coffee and savor each sip without trying to gulp it down quickly burning my tongue and rushing out the door. Mornings are the best time of the day for me. Sitting in my favorite chair, my cat, Agnes, in my lap, watching the sunlight filter through the ancient Spanish Oaks, I can breathe deeply, appreciating the beauty of nature and caffeine!

My demanding boss has been replaced by the “shoulds” in my head. For example, I should vacuum today if Callie, the long-haired calico cat, has left gobs of fluff everywhere, or maybe pull weeds or straighten a closet. You get the idea. I miss my demanding boss; she wasn’t nearly as tough as my thoughts.

Without fail, I work out every morning for an hour and a half; it’s good for my heart, the doctor tells me. But the truth is, I don’t work out because the doctor says it’s good for me; I’m addicted to it. That probably sounds weird to many, but a day without working out is awful for me.

I love to push myself until I’m drenched in sweat and my muscles are quivering a bit. It makes me feel strong and relieves the blues and stress. In many ways, it’s a powerful drug. And I would like to live a long, healthy life. Supposedly this will help in that endeavor.

After showering, it’s time for my two-minute commute to the shed to feed my birds. They’ve come to expect me at a particular time each morning, and if I’m a few minutes late, they let me know. Sending up a chatter of noise expressing their displeasure. The squirrels always join in the chorus barking loudly and following closely on my heels, supervising or hoping I’ll move faster.

Moving faster is not an option at this age. One must be very careful when navigating uneven ground to avoid falling and breaking a hip. The number of broken hip stories you hear when you’re old is fascinating. It seems to be the number one fear among retirees.

Then the garden gets some attention and words of encouragement. I like to let the plants know that I’m grateful they’re growing and will soon produce yummy veggies for our table and share them with neighbors. I suppose talking to vegetables might qualify as senile, but who cares? It makes me feel good.

The remainder of an ordinary day might be spent at any one of several doctor’s offices. I have a roster of them—Cardiologist, Rheumatologist, Internist, Ophthalmologist, Chiropractor, and Osteopath. I even know the names of my local lab technicians and their children’s and grandchildren’s names.

Most days, I spend the afternoon trying to finish writing my book or working with my wizard web designer, who continues to teach this old dog new tricks! Email, bills, phone calls, and text messages require attention. Occasionally, I will bake something. Treats for the neighbors or to stockpile in the freezer for the kids.

I notice that all the simple tasks I used to complete in a few minutes now require focus and attention. Where I once could multi-task, my brain says, not so fast. Now meal preparation requires planning and focus. When I was young, I would get home from work, prepare dinner for five kids, help with homework, and make lunches for the next day, all without a thought. I wish it were still that simple.

These days, I plan meals a week in advance. Double-check the pantry and fridge before beginning. Even so, mistakes are made. The first time I left a burner on, I was mortified. After the second time, I started paying close attention so I wouldn’t burn the house down because I had made pasta sauce.

The absolute best part of retirement for me is I get to stay home! My professional career required extensive global travel. It nearly killed me. Now I don’t have to put on make-up unless I have a zoom call; I can wear whatever I want (no suits, pantyhose, or high heels). Occasionally, I may even take a nap!

I reminisce about my life sometimes and wonder how I managed it all. I’m just grateful for this opportunity to breathe and enjoy my life.

Still learning, still growing, not too shabby, I’d say.

Do you dream about retirement and what that would look like for you? Or are you retired and enjoying your time away from your job? I'd love to know!

andesym@msn.com