RETIREMENT

                                              

There comes a time in all our lives called retirement and for some of us it seems to be an almost useless time when suddenly we have little or no purpose. When the kids have all come and gone--- and come and gone again. When the staff meetings have all been exhausted and you have your handshake, a hug and a gold watch and    when for the first time since you started on this trip way back then, no one comes to you for direction anymore. Not that you were all that important in the scheme of things anyway but for many years you were part of a team that worked so well and along with the work and responsibility came the rewards and the accolades and atta boys that felt so good and you had so many friends, or at least you thought you did. But then a day came when you sensed it was you’re time, and for the first time since you kissed your mom goodbye, cut the aprons strings, and drove off into the sunset seeking fame and fortune, while still wet behind the ears, you are going to shift gears and change direction. It’s a big step because you sense that once you commit to this there is no going back and you’re technically in the last quarter of life and the curtain is slowly rising on the final act. But some inner voice says it’s just too hard to keep up with the pack anymore and things have changed so much and you’re just sick and tired of that old rat race that used to pump you up and make you feel important. “Oh wow, look at this I got a letter from the scooter store today. I know I limp when I’m tired-- but who knew, they knew.”

You stuff the alarm clock in the nightstand drawer-- under those red silk boxers you’ll never wear again—and say you’ll get up when you want too, or nature calls. You savor your morning coffee now while reading the paper, instead of gulping it while waiting for a red light. You take a long trip out west and you know there is no timeline when you have to be back, but old habits die-hard and you grow restless for home. After all, how many red rocks and gray mountains, and sandy deserts, can one man look at before they all look the same? You long for your own bed and your style of chili and you miss that old coot next door who always bitches about everything and suddenly you realize that sometimes now he makes more sense then he used to and “Oh! My God I’m getting just like him.” You go back to work to visit and for the first few times they all gather around you as if you’re back from the dead, but then slowly the visits seem to make no sense because everyone is busy and you feel like you’re in the way There are so many new faces, and they are all doing it the wrong way anyway, and when you try to tell them that, they smile politely and walk away.

But a day comes when you know now is the time to let go completely and you’re going to write a book, or paint a picture or be someone’s day brightener. You’re not going to tell anyone how to do anything anymore and you’re going to learn how to grow a garden and share your thoughts and tales with your grandkids. Your just going to enjoy the life you have left and there is so much purpose if you just look for it. Maybe everyday is Saturday now, but there are still things to do and places to go, and people to see. Before long you are joking that you don’t know when you had time to work, and someday maybe you will retire again, but only on your terms, and when you are darn good and ready, because there is no mandatory age for that.