Life After Retirement

There is a word I have been thinking about lately: margin. Years ago, when I was teaching first graders how to write, I remember pointing out the faint margin lines running down both sides of their copybooks. “See these lines?” I would say. “Your writing begins here on the left, and it stops here on the right. You don’t write all the way to the edge.”

In the two years before I retired, I put “write myself a job description for my retirement” on a list. Retirement, for those keeping score, is the part where you don’t have a job. The list lived on my phone, in a note called Elaine’s Retirement. It had 14 sections, because apparently my retirement required the same scope as my 1994 dissertation. Spiritual, Hobbies, Creativity…

There is a strange thing about retirement decisions: we often make some of the biggest ones when we have the least experience with the life we are choosing. You may have spent 30 or 40 years working, raising a family, paying a mortgage, building routines, and organizing your life around a calendar that was largely decided for you. Then retirement arrives and suddenly you have choices…

The money is handled. You met with the advisor, ran the numbers, and the date is coming into view. You did the responsible thing. The question that’s harder to answer, the one that comes up when someone asks what you’ll do with all that time in retirement, is who you’re going to be once the title is gone…

I have a question for the younger generations: When did leaving the house become impossible without a beverage companion? I’m not talking about a cup of coffee on the way to work. I understand that. I’m a coffee person myself. I’m talking about the phenomenon of the ever-present drink – the giant insulated tumbler, the designer water bottle…

A friend once told me she spent nearly six months deciding whether to move. She made lists. She talked with her children. She visited neighborhoods. She changed her mind more than once. Then one afternoon she laughed and said, “I finally realized I wasn’t trying to find the perfect decision. I was trying to become comfortable with whichever decision I made.”

Linda retired on a Friday with the kind of farewell most people hope for. There was a luncheon in the office conference room, speeches from coworkers who had become lifelong friends, a scrapbook filled with photographs spanning nearly three decades, and a cake decorated with the words Enjoy Your Next Chapter…

When I turned 70, I finally let myself stop working full-time. I figured I’d keep on teaching a course or two a quarter to “keep busy,” and then play more. The first thing to hit me was loneliness – no meetings or colleagues to talk with. The second punch was having no heart for teaching anymore. I was done…

A woman once smiled as she looked across the table and said something that made me pause. “I spent thirty years planning for retirement,” she said. “What I didn’t realize was that retirement would have plans for me.” At first, she thought she knew exactly how this chapter of life would unfold…

I heard a simple line in a movie the other night: “What doesn’t bend, breaks.” It wasn’t meant to be profound. It was just a passing remark before the story moved on. But it stayed with me. As I was getting ready for bed that night, another image appeared in my mind. I could see an entire riverbank covered with smooth river rocks…