They said it couldn't be done. They, being some of the males in my family, and "couldn't be done" meaning me, being happy in retirement. I was sure they were wrong. Now, I'm not so sure. Perhaps it's COVID, that really was a game changer for many people. All I know is that there is a deep restlessness within me. Not that I don't appreciate the things I have, my health, a happy marriage, a wonderful family, a good home. I do, but sometimes I feel like I'm just waiting to die. Every day is much like the one before it.
I've been thinking about how I measured my life in the past. As a child, I remember saying "I'm going to be (another year older) this year, starting in January. When you're born in December, it's only a month or less, until you can say that. As a young adult, I measured time by the birth and growth of my children. Later, it was how many years I had been at a job, or how close I was to this degree or that one, or some Digital Commons milestone. I was a big believer in whiteboards to track my goals. Now my whiteboard contains the ongoing grocery list and what's in the freezer. More recently, I measured how many days until I retired, then what was left to do to get the house ready to sell and move to Tennessee. I think my last pre-COVID measure was how long until we left for Hawai'i.
So what did I hope to accomplish when I retired? My husband will tell you that those two words do not belong in the same sentence (Accomplish/Retired), but we'll just have to agree to disagree there. I know I wanted to read more, see the state parks in Tennessee and the national parks in the United States, geocache, travel, and volunteer. Before COVID, I had done some of most of those things (no national parks, though). Now, I read. Thirty books this month. Don't get me wrong, I love to read, but there has to be more, doesn't there?
How about you, my friends - do you struggle to live the new life, or are you managing better than I am? I truly hope so.