On November 4th, I officially ceased to work.   No more schedules, assignments, meetings, training, deadlines, new programs and procedures to learn.  Conversely, it also meant no more paycheck, purpose, structure, and socialization.  But unlike many, this was not an easy decision for me. 

“Three signs you are ready to retire,” a recent Journal article reported.  If it were only that easy, I thought.  Two outlined and reiterated the customary financial goals that should be met.  The third addressed the emotional concerns.  The latter is what struck me. I have had years to think about and plan for my financial needs, but I had not addressed the emotional aspects of retirement.  I found the latter the most difficult, my hurdle.  This was so final, so bittersweet.  What if I had made the wrong decision and should have postponed it?  Or worse, what if I hated retirement?  I could find another job, but it would not be the same. I had worked since I was ten on an Iowa farm, then at a paying job as a young teen. This was my life. I pondered if I would still have a purpose, would ache for the structure, my co-workers, the stimulation of employment.  In my emotional turmoil, I was not even considering the negative aspects.  I began equating retirement as my last hurrah in life.  I had experienced college, a career, marriage, parenthood, and being a grandparent. What else was there?  This was the last stage, the end.  I remember the day my father-in-law signed up for social security.  It was one of the saddest days in his life, he said.  Not working and getting a monthly check?  I didn’t understand how anyone could think of that as a mournful time in one’s life.  He wasn’t thinking along those lines; he was thinking of it as the beginning of the end,  the finality of a 45-year career, experiencing his last stage. He felt old, felt his services were no longer needed, wanted, or important.  I can now better understand and empathize with his anguish.   

But weighing also in the back of my mind was that my future was not guaranteed.  So far I had enjoyed good health, could maneuver easily, no bone replacements to date.  But how much longer could this be the situation?  Even the best plans cannot eliminate unforeseen forces.  I could keep postponing retirement but would my gamble pay off?  Would my vacillating and postponing cause me more emotional distress than what setting the retirement date was causing?  I needed to jump in and reap the benefits of my years of employment and start enjoying this aspect of my life now. I had already worked past the standard retirement age and witnessed friends enjoying their retirement.  No time restrictions; in fact, no restrictions at all!   I could do more of what I love — quilting, painting, reading, hiking, kayaking, cross-country skiing, traveling— and new endeavors — creative writing, learning a musical instrument, designing, knitting and embroidery. It was time also to savor winters in the “Valley of the Sun.”No more shivering and shoveling snow. In a moment of clarity/sanity, I had to question: what am I waiting for?  

I am now into my fourth week of retirement. It is so soon in my transition that when I am asked “How’s retirement?”, my response is, “I feel like I am on vacation,” and that is the best feeling!