Running Into Retirement

Running into Retirement
Lately I've had many thoughts about this whole retirement process. I decided to start writing about what I've been feeling and experiencing. Since many of my closest friends are still working full throttle and full time, I thought writing about the next chapter in life from my perspective and sharing a few insights, might be interesting to some who are considering a major life change within the next decade.

I went to a New York State Teachers' Retirement Seminar in March of 2008 to begin to collect information and ideas about what might happen when I finally decided to leave teaching. At that point I had no plans to stop working, at least not for five years. What I remember from that day was advice about not changing everything in your life immediately after you retire. You shouldn't pick-up and move away from your friends. You should keep some of your routines the same at least for the first several years. People do well in retirement by staying near their networks, their friends and family if possible. They have time to act on life long interests and passions. They give time to worthy causes. They volunteer. They may work part-time. They spend more time with family. They keep active mentally. Those are the "sound bites" I remember from that day long seminar. It all made good sense.

But what happens when your circumstances cause you to run full speed ahead into retirement? I found out in December we would be moving 3,000 miles across the country. My husband needed to begin work July 1st. I continued all my professional obligations and even taught a summer school class up until 3 days before the moving van came. I had worked full time, teaching children and college students since 1971 with only a 5 month hiatus when I had my first child. There was no prolonged mental preparation for the shift that was about to happen in my life. My husband would begin a new academic position (more of the same for him with different players) but I would "retire". What does that mean? How do you "retire"? From what do we retire? To where? For how long? I would discover many different meanings for the word retire. I had officially written my letter of intent to "retire". I legally "retired" by filling out all the paperwork with the state. I "retired" from my office space by giving many things away and clearing out file drawers. But in the last few weeks before the move there were far too many details to attend to, loose ends to tie up, and no time to comprehend the emotional impact of retiring from all the beautiful friends and people I had come to know, and to whom I was now hurriedly and unconsciously saying good-bye. I think I stayed only moderately sane by pretending I'd see everyone again soon. That is what I do when loss threatens to unravel me ......I pretend.

At 7:30 AM on June 30th, 2009, I got into the car in Buffalo New York and we (husband and dog) headed for Davis California. The sky was thunderously gray, dark, dreary, ominous and threatening. It began to rain hard, thunder, and lightening. We drove in silence. We left New York and entered Pennsylvania and somewhere on the highway near Warren Pennsylvania, the crack in my damn gave away. My husband pulled into a rest stop because I was out of control with wailing sounds and physically racking sobs. It poured both outside and inside the car. So many intense emotions had been stuffed down, tucked away, unexpressed....with no time given to feel the sadness or acknowledge the enormous changes that were underway. I left the car and walked, very slowly, in the pouring rain, to the bathroom. I didn't care who saw my crying face. I didn't care what they thought or imagined. I didn't care if I stayed in the restroom for hours! I was "retiring" from the life I had known for 38 years and I had no idea about what kind of life I could create or who I would encounter. What I knew was it felt great to give in to this intense sadness, to break apart the stoic automatic life of movement and detailed action I'd been living for the last few months. It felt great to wash my hot face with cold water and to look into the mirror and see tenderness returning to my eyes. After 30 minutes of uncontrollable sobbing, I did not care about what would come next. After years of running my life with checklists, endless planning, keeping on a schedule, meeting deadlines, planning a year in advance, setting and accomplishing goals, it was over. I was, at this moment, living in it! I remember smiling into the mirror and watched the concerned look of the woman next to me melt away. I "retired" back to our car and the journey continued.