Plan for retirement to make life good
When I was part of the working world, I had tons of friends. Most of them called me Chief. One day, someone told me that I was old enough to retire and I should consider it. A day or so later, I heard it again, and soon, the topic was repeated. I already had it on good authority from the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus that life after retirement did exist. So, with no plans to retire, I finally decided to ride that train. A large number of people stopped by my office to say all aboard and farewell. Many more telephoned and told me that I was a great chief. A few even invited me to lunch. My final day, which was supposed to be one of the most exciting days of my life, came slower than poured molasses. After it finally arrived, I said farewell to my cohorts and headed for paradise.
I eagerly jumped out of bed the next morning, adorned myself with T-shirt and jeans, then gazed at my clock. The envisioned best day of my life wasn’t starting exactly how I thought it would, so I wondered “What next?” Where were all the well-wishers, the telephone calls, and all my cohorts? As the day labored on, I figured that I still had time to get excited. Before I realized it, a month had passed. My thin blue line was getting thinner, and I was beginning to feel outdated and helpless while obstructing a closing train door.
I don’t profess to be the master of the masterminds, but I can actually think and chew gum at the same time. As I pondered what my life was going to be like, I thought about a friend who lost her husband. She had a wonderful life full of friends, dancing, sports, great food, church, travel and much more. She mentioned after he passed that she felt alone. Most of the folks that she used to call friends had abandoned her. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was now a loner, or if her friends just didn’t know what to say or how to act.
It hit me like a raindrop smacking a speeding car’s window. I felt like a loner. I was no longer in the in crowd. The people who I worked with were always friendly, but most of them were not real friends. We never socialized outside of work, we only communicated during working hours, and we had nothing but work in common. This shouldn’t have been such a big surprise, because I had previously left several other jobs. Thankfully, there was always at least one cohort who clung to me like Velcro.
After I had time to adjust to retirement, I decided that I had too much to offer to stare at walls, pace the floor, and collect dust. It was time to reach out to my former colleagues and offer my many talents. That went over about as well as mud on a living room carpet. I got nowhere; I was the damsel tied to the railroad track. I had absolutely nothing to offer that they needed.
One day, my wife asked me to water her knockout roses. As I headed outside, it came upon a midday clear, if roses can be repeat bloomers, so can I. I could reincarnate myself to make my get-up-and-go, get-up-and-go. My mind started formulating my new paradigm. I was going to be called Charlie.
During my career, I was always on the go seeing wonderful things, fabulous places and traveling far and wide. I spent many years waking up with an alarm clock. I attended meetings at night and on weekends, but I had one heck of a ride.
My time was now mine. No dress coats or ties, and “Each day was a Friday and every night was a Saturday night.” In all those working years, I never learned how to relax or lessen my stress. I now realize that I flunked in planning, even though my plan was not to flunk. I was never one for hunting or fishing, and I was selective about the sports that I followed. I now enjoy writing, art, and completing fun projects. I am humbly honored that I’m allowed to share my thoughts with readers every week.
Life on earth is but a whistle-stop. Plan for the future so that the train ride can be enjoyed. Make life good, I certainly did.