How do I feel, now that I'm retired?

 

Please pardon the slightly blurred picture above.  I was looking for a more colorful picture of me to post, and this is what I could find with a limited amount of time.  But why was I looking for something with color to post, you might ask?  Well, the answer is simple.  I feel that the weight of going into a soul crushing job has lifted, and that I am looking forward to the future.

Looking forward to the future does not mean that everything will be cheerful.  For example, if I assume that RQS and I will have a long term relationship, I must also assume the likelihood that one of us could die of old age before the other.  Who needs grief?  But that's a normal part of life if one lives to old age.  Having lost a spouse over 2 decades ago, I'd hate to go through that experience again.  And yet, the reward for taking that risk is worth all the pain it could bring.

I now have the freedom to plan and do new things.  Most of the big things I want to do involve travel.  Yet, the little things in life can be the most rewarding.  For example, I can hear it in RQS's voice when she talks about her exercise sessions.  This may motivate me to finally get back into an exercise routine - or, at least, I hope so.  (Right now, I'm looking at doing some yoga.  I'll talk about that in a later post.)  I may also get back to the reading I've put off, as well as taking care of the tasks I've long neglected.  

Yet, change does not come easily to me.  And this may be one of the biggest changes I'll deal with in life.  I could have muddled on, and continued to work at the soul sucking job.  But I'm reminded of Shirley, a woman I used to work with at the bank.  Her life ended on a very sad note.  Years ago, she worked full time, even after she reached retirement age, to have the medical benefits needed to cover her ailing husband's medical expenses.  Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  Her retirement was not one of joy, but of sadness, as she knew she would die with no one left to care for her husband. (Her retirement lunch was a sad ritual, as it was a formality that only made things worse for everyone involved.)  I do not want that fate.  This is why I chose to leave while I still have enough of my health to do the things I want to do.