I heard a woman in a doctor’s waiting room tell the receptionist she had no problem waiting. “I’m retired; I have nothing to do.” What?!
Excuse me, but please don’t think you speak for all of us who have retired from jobs that paid us regularly. (As a writer, I’ll never retire.)
It’s my birthday this month, so the passage of time has been on my mind. Our daughter phoned me yesterday and asked how I was doing. I told her that like everyone in our seventies, I was feeling great—no aches, no pains, living life to the fullest, organized and on top of things and grateful for every day!
After we stopped laughing, we shared truer stories. I’ve decided to sell my bicycle, coming to grips with the reality that my balance isn’t what it used to be. But I still do weight training (a relatively new venture) and walk with my husband and our Bernese Mountain Dog almost daily, and take intermittent hikes.
She’s a massage therapist and needs to take care of her body. But she loves to garden, with great success up in Oregon. As young as she is, though, she finds she needs to stop and rest more often than she did in her twenties. I did a bit of weeding after our recent rain here in Tucson (yay!) and my hands and legs let me know to take breaks. Boy, did they!
I guess as I age, I’m facing reality and mortality. But with grace? Just as my mother told me when she was in her sixties, shortly before she died, inside I feel very much like I did at twenty. Outside we look mature (okay, old). Inside, maturity is an elusive concept. Serenity? Much harder to find!
But I’m an optimist and I’m still seeking both. Sorta. And still reading voraciously and writing (the next novel will be out by summer’s end) and laughing a lot and finding new recipes to try and doing some volunteering and planning travel and other adventures. Why not? Let’s face it. We retire. We age, we adapt. We need to compensate for less energy, wear boots instead of sandals when hiking, and carry sticks, but we can keep moving, and keep reading, and laughing and writing and savoring the good stuff.
What do you savor? What keeps you moving?
