Enough Said

Enough Said
A sampling of my columns and why the hell is my picture SO big?

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Next stop on this life’s highway is retirement


For each of us, life is a series of passages: tunnels, bridges, mountains and tolls. It’s a journey, fraught with danger and free sailing.

We stumble and stand and sometimes run headlong, until something comes along to either slow us down or skid our Michelins to a stop. Joy, health, and finding love are the keys on the ring we insert in our everyday ignition. For me, a new passage is approaching pretty fast and I’m jumping on the running board with the wind in my hair.
Retirement.

About a year ago, a friend of mine posted a picture on Facebook noting her first day of retirement. It’s something new retirees do, I’m told, on our first day away from the grind. From that day on she did not have to sign in, punch in, wear panty hose or balance a to-go cup atop paperwork.
No more meetings, no more commutes. No more answering to someone else’s directives, no more cold lunches on the fly and daily use of public restrooms. She was home.

The photo? A sunny morning, well past sunrise, about half way through “Good Morning America.” The sun had not yet topped the trees.

I stared at it. It was beautiful. It was peaceful. I bawled like a baby.

I wondered, would I ever be able to do that? At the time, I figured, probably never.
Even though I know how hard it is, and how incredibly more difficult it has become, and seemingly impossible to plan, I tell my grown-up kids to save for retirement.

When you’re young and have to come up with well over $1,000 a month just for daycare, plus mortgage payments, car loans, student loans, utilities and all the rest, retirement is assigned an empty envelope. Photos of first steps, first dance, prom, college, wedding and grandkids far outplay the first day of retirement pic.

Thoughts of sleeping late and wearing PJs until noon are as unimagined as winning the lottery.
My husband and I were never the kind of couple you see in the fancy retirement ads, like the ones discussing investment plans in an office with a mahogany desk.
The last time I saw a desk made out of mahogany, I was standing in front of it, as was a judge in a St. Louis traffic court. I was 16 and my father stood with me but I had to pay the fine.
Lead-foot lesson learned.

My husband and I were the hardworking, paycheck to paycheck, cut coupons, buy off the clearance rack kind of couple. Our kids got what they needed and a little of what they wanted. It was a balancing act for sure.

Now that we’ve downsized everything, we breathe easier because we are OK. We look at the future we have left with different eyes than the ones which had a staring contest with the financial enormity of raising children. We were careful, we were steadfast, we didn’t blink.

So, now it’s my turn, I’m retiring this summer. No PJs till noon for me, I’ll still be working, part time for a few hours. But on that first day of retirement, you bet I’ll take a pic and I’ll post it on Facebook, just like my friend did.

And you know what? I’ll probably bawl my eyes out.