At the first stage of retirement, the transition stage, it is sometimes difficult to remember what day of the week it is when you wake up. For me, my pill box is my first reminder! A friend once told me that retirement meant that every day was Saturday.
For most of my adult working life as a self-employed person, the end of the year meant pushing hard to try and beat the prior year revenue. This was always a challenge and often met with high anxiety as we entered the ‘holiday season’ from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve.
December is upon us, and, before we know it, we will be celebrating the new year. Many times, though, people wait until January to look at their income tax situation and begin gathering all of the documents coming in the mail and the ones collected and saved in some file or box.
On a beautiful fall morning in late October 2002, I was planting Iris bulbs along the waterfront of our home in the Northern Neck of VA. I felt a bit more tired than I thought was reasonable and noted that I was sweating more than normal, so I sat down and lit up a cigarette.
Earlier this year, my 7-year-old granddaughter (B) talked with my wife about wanting “Popeye” – that is, myself – to build her a doll house. After a brief discussion, I thought I could do it but would not be able to start until September, when I was to retire.
I recently went with my wife to visit her mom who is in a memory care unit. It was late in the day, and they were getting the residents ready for dinner. Most are fairly mobile, some can easily manage on their own, while others have walkers and a few need to be transported in wheel chairs.
I have now made it through the first two weeks of my ‘retirement’. One thing I realized is that I was already starting to lose track of the days but was saved by my pill box! As long as I remember to take my pills each day, then I’ll remind myself of what day it actually is.
My first week into the transition stage has brought with it a full range of emotions. It started well with a three-day weekend of golf. But I then asked myself, “Does having a three-day weekend have a meaning anymore?”
Yesterday was my last day of ‘official’ employment! I am now entering the first stage of retirement, or some might say, the “twilight zone.”
I opened up my computer and found that my company email had been blocked, my calendar had changed, and all contacts had been erased. But I also had an outpouring of well-wishes on my Facebook page that was very encouraging.
Have you ever needed to provide temporary housing to your adult children?
Living in a full house can be a wonderful experience and also a very challenging time. I am describing a situation when your adult child and their family move in under the same roof and have different – read as unique – parenting ideas that may seem foreign to you!