Part II of Retirement

Part II of Retirement

   When you retire, you'll get asked this question a lot, “How do you like retirement?”  And in the early stages, your giddy reply is usually, “What’s not to like?”  But then as my friend reminded me (and both my wife and I are well aware), not everyone retires successfully;  and indeed, things can change quickly.  And what becomes ironic is that you suddenly feel busier than ever.

    One of the Catch-22s of it all, however, is the feeling (at least for me) of the clock ticking;  after all, aren’t people old when they retire (or at least older)?  And maybe it is simply that psychological dig that gnaws in the back of my mind.  Are my feet starting to shuffle; am I sleeping more; is that bag of salt really heavier?  Of course, this is also the point of life where you’re either next at bat or getting pretty darn close.  My aunt recently passed away at 94, alert and pretty much exercising until the final week.  She always traveled and roomed alone (even on trips to Las Vegas from Hawaii),  walked several miles almost daily,  knew her facts and figures and was more organized than me!  And yes, my mother is much the same (now 89), still sharp as a tack and driving daily and doing well (okay, those sacks of fertilizer are getting a bit heavy for her to lift these days).  Yes, great genes, I know…but the point is, their ages reflect something else which is that their being that old simply mean that I am also older;  and honestly, do any of us really think that will happen, that we‘ll grow older?  Well for those of you young pups out there, yes, those of you still in your late 50s or 40s or 30s (you in your 20s are still immortal), get ready for some sticker shock…the clock’s ticking does indeed get louder and louder each day!

    On the plus side, retirement does become a time to “get real,”  to glance around and look at yourself and what you've become.  More days than not I turn around in my office and realize that I am a hoarder, a “collector” in the nice version but basically a person surrounding myself with junk possessions: books that were simply too much of a bargain to pass up (but still haven’t been read); movies I just had to see (but haven’t and likely won’t); coins and art and sculptures that I know will be going up in price soon (some have and some haven’t as reflected by buyers on Ebay, many of whom obviously don’t realize a terrific bargain when they see it or why else would I think to knock down the price on that 1985 collector’s tin…why it is priced way below what I paid for it back when!…what's wrong with them?); papers and articles that have so much terrific information, even if they are 10 years old and completely forgotten (and I will forget about it again once I skim through it for the 4th time before returning it to its secret cave, the one I call my desk drawer that holds untold treasures and should be opened only once a year and sometimes not even that often).  Yes, retirement time gives you that, time to reflect and stare at the things that work helped you erase from the guilt files of your mind, things you either should have done or need to do (if you only had the time, which back then was a valid excuse).  Well, retirement says now you the time…so the guilt button is officially switched back on, only this time the ticking clock button went on as well…and even with the possibility of your hearing diminishing a bit, you can indeed hear that ticking.

    So as one of my friends said, live the now.  Time is indeed (at least for me) finite and friends and relatives (and indeed we, ourselves) are being told to step aside, to move to another line to make way for that giant group of folks behind us, a huge group of younger, sharper, better-looking whippersnappers chatting in the line we once stood in.  Too bad they don’t know nearly as much as we did, for they’re cocky and rowdy and lack simple manners and social skills…how on earth will humanity survive?  Yes, glad to be out of that line and now chatting with our parents (who used to say those same things about us), friends and relatives, even if our line seems to be growing shorter and shorter...almost there, we say, looking ahead with mixed excitement and trepidation.

    And still the leaves come and fill the trees, then turn brilliant colors and fall; the moon dazzles us with closer orbits and night shadows, much as it did for those lugging the rocks to Stonehenge; the birds and ants and butterflies seem to perfect their immortality, never leaving a body for us to discover and yet appearing again and again (by the way, the total mass of ants on our planet is larger than any other species, including us!); and an invisible world of microbes and bacteria and water and soil seems to keep the entire engine running…somehow.

    Perhaps it is the age-old ticking, perhaps it is simply having the time to think.  But it seems clearer and clearer that we --our planet-- is in trouble.  We simply can’t keep dumping plastic everywhere, or gunning our engines and flushing acids down the drain.  In Changing Planet, Changing Health, the author presents sobering statistics that our biggest carbon capture machine, the ocean, is maxing out; this is the regurgitator that feeds the phytoplankton which converts the CO2 which releases the vapor which forms the clouds which sends the water back to us…and it’s filling up quickly.  Acidic oceans means far fewer plankton and coral (the filtering trees of the ocean), far fewer temp changes which means far fewer currents and clouds…far fewer flowing rivers and water.

    So what DO we do?  How can we --I-- make any sort of difference, especially now with a shorter amount of time?  It’s the old saying of many tiny raindrops soon lead to a flood.  And having the time to slow down and think (as retirement does), well, it makes you think.  How can I change, what can I do different that might help others…see, retirement is a time of life where the sun has passed high noon but it’s still light, it’s still pleasant, and the sun isn’t quite setting yet.  It ain't over, kid (as my coach would say).  It’s a time where one starts thinking more of what one should be doing instead of what one hasn’t done (and do any of us really want to reach that point?).  And what's funny is that you don't really blame anyone (except maybe yourself)...yes, you say, should have thought of all of this earlier but hey, I was working!  I was working!  But now, nobody's in the room...just you.  You look around.  Your decision, your move.

   So, next time you see me shuffling in my clunky blazing white Court Classics (Costco got rid of them for $9.97...how could I pass that by?), maybe jumping from penny slot machine to penny slot machine and smiling, well, you'll know what happened…heck, I might even treat you to that senior special at the buffet.  But not right now, I've got to get back to my blog...