My Time

 Ten years ago, when David had just turned 50, he would talk about retiring by 58 or 60 “at the latest.”

What a slacker, I had thought; even though I knew he worked hard, why quit when he’s still so young? Who does that?  

Every now and then I’d ask, “What are you going to do with all your time?” He’d respond by saying, “Whatever I want to do that day…I don’t want to be on a schedule anymore.”  I found this simplistic view incredulous! How could he be OK at home with no specific plans, with potentially decades left to live?

My only frames of reference at the time were my dad, who died a sitting City Councilman when he was 90, and my mom, who worked as his chief of staff until she called it quits at 80. They reveled in their work and would’ve been bored to death at home with no battles to fight.

Because I had always measured my days based on how much I could squeeze into them, as well as the joy I experienced crossing items off my to-do list, I just couldn’t comprehend David’s plan for himself. Perhaps, I wondered, there was an underlying reason, such as riding off into the sunset with his lovely lady 😊.

As life would have it, I found myself out of work at 56; David was 57 when he retired - even earlier than in his wildest dreams - and each of us reacted to our newfound freedom very differently.  

For me, this change came unexpectedly and was unwanted and caused emotional upheaval for at least one year, primarily because I felt the pressure to reinvent myself. Even though I was suddenly given the gift of time that I had previously craved, I also saw it as a big black hole that would swallow me up if I didn’t figure out how to make each day satisfying. Over time, I settled into a groove that worked well for me.    

In contrast, David’s retirement took him from “Work” to “Play” mode on Day One. It was eye-opening and impressive, I have to say, to see him transition to “the cutting edge of relaxation” so effortlessly, given how difficult it had been for me.   

When COVID hit, I watched him further embrace a home-based routine. I wasn’t surprised given how much of a homebody he is, but I appreciated his calm demeanor, especially given that I was somewhat nervous that, once again, I’d struggle to find my footing...but I didn't! 

As I reflect on why that was the case, I'm pretty sure that a few things came into play: Having faith that one day, we’d get back to some kind of normal; Living with a man who was happy at home, didn’t complain and even made me laugh at least once a day; and Most of all, learning to take life one day at a time.