Crawl Across the Finish Line
“The finish line is just the start of a whole new race.” ~ Unknown
I didn’t think about retirement until my sixtieth birthday. The number loomed large and foreboding. “Oh shit, now what?”
I made the classic baby boomer mistake of depending on my husband of thirty years to share his retirement. Circumstances beyond my control made it clear that was not going to happen.
We remember the conversation differently. The one about who should stay home and raise our children. Daycare for three kids was so expensive that as a teacher, or journalist, or librarian, I would be deep in the red.
He remembers something like, “You said you wanted to stay home for a decade. Why should I pay you for making the choice not to go to work. I went to work every goddamn day.”
No doubt, I was a kept woman. I kept hoping my marriage would somehow become bearable.
Luckily, in my mid forties I finished a Master’s Degree in Education with a certification in learning and behavior disorders. Before the circumstances came to light that hubby and I were not going to share retirement benefits. Or, any other benefits for that matter because we were no longer friends.
In the last sixteen years, I haven't collected a dime for sitting around the house doing nothing. But I did move to Maui (three times) and taught special education. I moved to Prague Czech Republic and taught English as a Foreign Language. I moved to Flagstaff and was the Director of Student Services for an accommodation school district. I moved to Tucson (twice) and currently teach special education.
With the constant motion, I forgot I was moving toward the state of retirement.
The recent book and Oscar winning film Nomadland is an excellent reminder of the importance of making a plan for later. Yes, many people make the choice to live out of a van, RV or Chevy Nova, but that lifestyle would not work for me. I keep a copy of the book on my desk, in plain sight. Any time I think I might want to quit my job I scan the details of what life has in store for people who attempt to live exclusively on their Social Security check.
Recently, I bemoaned my current status as a special education teacher to my mother. She pointed out that I made the choice to leave a marriage, live on an island, move to Europe, change jobs and locations countless times and now, she said, “It’s time to pay the piper.”
That damn piper! Who is this piper and why should I pay him?
So, every morning I make the choice to crawl on my hands and knees toward the retirement finish line. Regardless of how burned out. Tired or apathetic. Losing my hair, my keys, my sanity.
There is a reason 60ish is the magic age for people to hang it up. In the not so distant past most people worked until they died or were unable to crawl into the work place. As factories replaced farms it was widely thought that men is their 60’s were “useless” and should quit. The United States created Social Security in 1935 and Medicare in 1965. These programs were designed partially to clear out the old and bring in the young. Now, that policy has reversed as people live longer the government raised the retirement age to prevent crashing the system.
What is on the other side of the retirement finish line?
I’m not sure, but I want to find out! The start of something new and different.
A life of travel and adventure, time to discover and perfect a hidden talent, find a great love, or begin a whole new challenge.
I just hope its not another piper.
