I’m thinking that I might be in a good place to evaluate the last three years of “retirement”. I put the quotation marks around the word because the context of retirement is so variable. Many look forward to traveling, having more time for a hobby they enjoy, or volunteering for worthy causes. I considered all of these as I neared the final work-day.
I always thought of retirement in terms of what I observed growing up in a lower-middle class white family in Southern California. My Grandfather worked for a large manufacturing contractor for over 40 years and retired with a nice pension. My Grandmother raised two kids with a violent alcoholic. In those days, domestic violence was never mentioned…neither was physical and sexual abuse of children.
Upon retirement, they bought a small mobile home in Orange County in the late 50’s. Grandma spent her time cooking, sewing, gossiping with the neighbors and looking after her Grandchildren when called upon. My Grandfather quit drinking, had a beautiful garden, smoked a lot, and listened to the Dodger games on the radio. Mostly I remember the silence between them.
As I was growing up, we went to Sunday dinner at their house after church. I loved my Grandmother, avoided my Grandfather for good reason, and rarely visited them after I left home at 18. I rarely visited my parents either, until my daughter was born.
My Dad retired early due to advancing Multiple Sclerosis. He had worked at a large Aircraft company for 30 years, and his union provided for him abundantly. My mother worked periodically, but her mental illness prevented her from enjoying any career opportunities. She was a compulsive cleaner, with a debilitating germ phobia. She was one of the first to be prescribed a new wonder drug called Prozac. They also purchased a mobile home, after retirement – first in Orange County and then in Hemet, CA. They became very involved in their church and traveled as often as my Dad’s illness permitted. They had great friends and a lot of fun. When my sister and I started our families, they enjoyed the kids whenever we visited. My mother was especially close to my daughter and indulged her much more than the other grandchildren.
Out of the blue, my mother took her life. My dad was beside himself with anger and grief. He met a retired Army nurse and married her not two years after Mom’s death. She took great care of him, and they spent most of their time watching TV and going to doctor appointments.
Well I certainly did not picture myself in a mobile home watching TV all day, nor did I have travel destinations in mind for my retirement years. I did not want to emulate any part of my family of origin. I did not, expect that I would be a full-time caregiver for three of my grandbabies!
I actually have the best “retirement” job ever. I still have a significant ministry in my church, and the wonderful opportunity for what I often refer to as a “do-over”. I’m having a blast actually, and very much enjoying this season if my life. I feel blessed to be part of influencing the next generation, while enjoying the fruit of my own parenting.
My kids will probably never know or experience a “pension”. They certainly are not counting on Social Security. Statistically, they are the first generation in American History whose standard of living will not be better than their parents, nor will they live as long! I’m sad for that. Hopefully I can leave them enough to help out with college expenses and a bit of a nest-egg for their retirement years. They are sure providing me with a rich retirement of my own.