Six years ago, after 25 years of too much work and not enough play, I retired. It was time to leave.
And don’t forget what Cicely Tyson’s character, Sipsey, said about Idgie Threadgood’s beloved friend, Ruth, in the film, “Fried Green Tomatoes”:
“A lady always knows when to leave.”
For Sipsey, who nursed Ruth through terminal cancer and gave her the lethal dose of morphine that ended her pain, leaving meant dying.
For me, that job – the hours, the workload, the stress – was killing me. Staying meant dying. Leaving meant living.
Performing the duties of not one but two people myself for several years had taken its toll on my mind and body. I was stretched way too thin, perpetually overwhelmed and continually exhausted. Plus, most people didn’t want to be around me.
Heck, I didn’t want to be around me.
Still, the thought of retiring terrified me. What would I do with my days after filling them with school and work for nearly 40 years? I’d been part of the workforce since I turned 15 and hired in as a hostess at Big Boy’s.
Boredom was worth the risk and outweighed a stroke, heart attack or worse.
The hairs on my neck stand up at the thought of my struggle to make the decision to retire. The body remembers.
“A lady always knows when to leave.”
Luckily, bored is the last thing I’ve been. Quite the opposite, in fact. How did I ever have time to work?
Here’s what I did right after retiring and since then:
• Reassessed what was important in my life.
• Reconciled with my longtime partner.
• Sold my house because it was dumb to live apart.
• Moved in together because there was no more doubt.
• Healed my mind, body and soul.
• Slept in every morning for the first six months.
• Healed some more.
• Took naps just because I could.
• Stayed up as late as I wanted.
• Found the Mustang of my dreams.
• Bought a used RV and took a road trip to Maine.
• Had my second open-heart surgery to fix a valve.
• Spilled my guts to strangers in an online heart valve journal.
• Cheered for the Michigan Wolverines.
• Joined a local writers group, jump-started my writing and made new friends.
• Built my own website and created my Heart Matters blog.
• Volunteered at a charity resale shop.
• Inched toward becoming a snowbird. (This happens in 2020.)
In a word, I have lived my best life since retiring six years ago.
Not working saved my soul, and retirement freed my mind and body.
I know this because when people ask me how I am, I no longer say, “Oh, fine, you know, working a lot, very busy …”
Instead, I say, “Doing great! Just returned from a river cruise where I had the most interesting massage ever …”
And I’m nicer for others to be around – that goes for me, too.
Do I miss working? Nope. Do I miss the people? Some of them.
Time for me to leave now.