One winter afternoon while living in the Capital District, Larry and I had lunch at a Chinese restaurant with a former co-worker of his who was planning on retiring in a few more months.
“Can you two give me some guidelines as to what I should do when I leave the job?” she asked. She knew that she had to do something. She couldn’t picture herself just sitting home and having no structure to her life. “I certainly don’t want to be bored!” she explained.
Four years earlier, Larry and I were both in our last months of work after long careers in public service and education. People were continually asking us what we were going to do after we retired. Larry had a simple, straightforward plan: We would travel, and we spend more time volunteering for Special Olympics.
I, however, fearing boredom, felt the need to line up more ducks to keep me happy. What would I do with my life once I did not fill my time with a forty plus hour a week job? I too sought advice from friends and relatives who had retired before me on how I could survive all the “free time.”
“What free time?” commented a former superintendent of schools, who has spent his retirement volunteering on numerous boards and organizations. “If you want to be in control of your time, keep on working.“
“You’ll never look back,” a former co-worker stated. “You will wonder how you ever worked as your days will be so full.”
I wasn’t convinced.
Larry retired in May 2010, but I still headed to the office for seven more months. I left the house at 7:30 each morning after kissing my sleeping husband’s head as he nestled under the covers. He made up for it by having dinner ready for me when I arrived home. However, my desire to join him pushed me into a pre-retirement blitz at work. I confirmed my retirement date with my boss, went to a New York State Education Teacher’s Retirement System seminar to line up the paperwork, and began cleaning out my files. Then I turned my attention to creating and implementing my retirement bucket list.
First on the list were all those hobbies that had been put on the back burner. The short list, in addition to travel and Special Olympics, included the following:
- Read all the books on my “Read Before I Die” list;
- Complete the crewel piece I started twenty years earlier;
- Learn how to knit;
- Update my fifty photo albums;
- Organize the two drawers in my file cabinet filled with my children’s artwork, report cards, and special projects;
- Relearn French;
- Learn Spanish;
- Put together all of my stories and my mother’s stories into a book.
Yes, this woman was going to be productive in her golden years!
Although I already had a number of unread books on my book shelves, I hit a couple of used book sales and downloaded numerous classics onto my Nook. I purchased orange and royal blue yarn and needles to knit Larry a Syracuse University scarf. On impulse I also bought Red Sox theme flannel to make him a throw to commemorate his favorite baseball team.
At the office supply store, I selected new photo albums to replace the ones that were falling apart as well as file folders, labels, and markers for my home organization project. I downloaded a language app for my français redux and purchased a Spanish for Dummies for my español. Mom’s files were piled six inches thick into a drawer, ready to polish and publish.
Throughout this entire process, Larry looked on with a mix of mild amusement to outright incredulity that I needed to prepare so much. And he feared all these projects and books and anticipated classes were going to fill my dance card so much we won’t have time to just be.
After all the planning and anticipation, my last day of work arrived. On December 17, 2010, I fought the traffic on the Northway and Route 7 one last time. I completed the required written instructions to my successor, signed my exiting papers, and said my final goodbyes. Then I drove my last rush hour trip home to Clifton Park. It was time to tackle that bucket list!
I reflected on all this planning over the dinner with Larry’s co-worker. I thought of the hundreds of unread books on my shelves that had been passed over for more current ones in the local library. An added bonus: I could get them in big print, a big advantage for my “golden years” eyes.
I tried to work on the Elsa Williams crewel piece. My eyes had changed since I started it, and I doubted it would ever be finished.
The knitting? Abandoned after four unsuccessful attempts at learning how to cast on. The Red Sox throw? I pinned it together, but I never took out the sewing machine to stitch up the sides. My friend, Judy Lynch, finished it up for me a few years later.
The pictures were still in envelopes, the photo albums still unwrapped. This was 2014, the digital age, and I needed to think of tossing most of them, scanning the favorites, and putting them into a digital album. My children strongly encouraged me to toss—not organize—all the childhood memorabilia I had saved. I haven’t had time to refresh my French or learn Spanish; I needed time to work on my own English as I edited and re-edited my stories and my mother’s story for The Jewish World. At least I was working on one of those items on my bucket list.
So what did we do those first four years since we retired? We traveled to Machu Picchu, the Galápagos Islands, the Danube, Bryce and Zion. When we were home, we spent time volunteering for Special Olympics—coaching track and field and bowling. Yes, in the end, Larry’s simple, straightforward approach to retirement was the most realistic.
Most importantly, the most satisfying activities of the retirement years in Clifton Park were in many cases activities that were never on my radar. Weekly visits to a couple of friends at Daughters of Sarah nursing home evolved into my volunteering at their memory enhancement unit. After taking Zumba at a local elementary school, I realized how much I loved exercise classes and joined the YMCA.
Over dim sum on that cold winter afternoon, Larry and I offered this advice to our friend: Yes, you can speculate as to what you would like to do once you leave your job for the last time. However, you may never get to many of them. As a matter of fact, you should just kick the bucket—the bucket list that is. Let life take you where you had only dreamed of going. And that is actually the best retirement advice of all.
Update as of February 2024,: Over fourteen years after my retirement, I am really proud that I accomplished #8 on my list, having published since my retirement four books! I was forced to organize the two drawers in my file cabinet filled with my children’s artwork, report cards, and special projects (#5) during our move to Florida. As to the other six, status pretty much unchanged, except my “Books to Read Before I Die (#1), it has only grown exponentially. So many books, so little time! Meanwhile, we are loving our life in Florida and our time with our children and three grandchildren ! We are very, very grateful!
A version of this article originally appeared in the January 30, 2014, issue of Jewish World News, a bi-weekly subscription-based newspaper in upstate New York.
There Goes My Heart 