Ahhhhh, retirement. You know... the lovely nirvana, just over the hill, that most of us are so anxious to reach. The luxury of sleeping until you wake on your own... more time to spend with family and friends... or to travel... or to volunteer, to learn something new... or to work on projects long delayed. AND a guaranteed income. Oh joy! And soon it will be mine. I am less than twelve weeks from full retirement, and already suffering from a bad case of short-timers' attitude.
My friends and neighbors who are still years from retirement are a tad jealous. How do I know this? Because never, since I was pregnant for the first time, have I received so many well-intentioned but useless suggestions. A typical example: "Oh! You don't want to retire, do you? People who retire grow old very quickly. Surely you want to keep working so you don't just sit around. I couldn't stand to do that."
Yeah, right.
And just that quickly, I am reminded that I am, absolutely, my father's daughter. That man had more hobbies and interests than you can imagine, and I am very much the same. Dad decided to retire as soon as he was eligible, at age 62. Mother was incensed; she nagged and nagged him to reconsider, providing many of the same supposedly helpful comments I have heard recently. Finally, exasperated, he looked at her and said, "My father died at age 65. I don't know what my future holds, but I plan to have some fun before I go." Never nonplussed for long, Mother switched tactics: "You are in excellent health. You're going to live another 25 years, just as your mother did. Why retire now?" I don't think Mother objected to the idea of retirement as much as she did to the fact that she did not make the decision.
Dad never wavered. Mom got over her snit. He retired at 62 and they enjoyed several wonderful years of carefree travel and fun. How does the story end? When he was 64, Dad was diagnosed with cancer. He lived another 9 years, but many of them were not pleasant. And Mom died at age 70, the same year Dad died. Do I have to say it? Father knows best. (OK, unless you are well past 50, you didn't get that one...)
So here I am at age 65, blessed with good health and stamina, and not a fool. I'm ready to go and play. And, darn it, I'm going to start before 2009 has ended. My brother and I are considering a Christmas trip... maybe in Paris and along the Seine.
I'm ready to visit my family and friends, stay up late, learn to play the hammered dulcimer (yes, all over again), make jewelry and plenty more. OK, I'll return to the gym, too. Travel? Australia and New Zealand, here I come!
I'll send you all postcards :-)
