Retired

We, generally speaking, are those individuals who can be found eating meals at odd hours during the day, hanging out at the mall and the grocery store, wearing funny looking clothing and not caring if our dark socks match the sandals we sport.  When we dine out, we tend to leave appropriate tips for hard-working waiters and waitresses but alas, we do usually order ice-water instead of those expensive tea or soft drinks.  Born just before, during, or right after World War II, we have advanced from being known simply as those Baby Boomers and slowly but surely have entered the wonderful world of the retired.

For countless years I struggled to live in the world of those who embraced and even sometimes cherish the early morning hours but now suddenly, when I can slumber later, I find it difficult to reset my internal clock.  Sleeping later, even though I continue to try, is just not included in the retirement plan.  Even though one of my BFFs Mary Jo Worthington Dudley advises to give it a few more months, I do not see sleeping late in my immediate future.

Even though Monday is no longer that dreaded two-headed monster, it also means that designated Monday holidays no longer have the same sparkle as they did in prior years.  However, I truly enjoyed our state and national holidays and I am forever grateful that Georgia Military College allowed the employees to spend time with family and friends.

Retired; that is what we are universally named, but we still have chores, we just do not leave the house to accomplish the tasks, there is no time limit, and what we could accomplish in days might now take weeks to complete.  We measure time by the month, Social Security arrives on Wednesday, and some of the rest of the days now slip by with barely a nod and a wink.  Otto says retirement is a bunch of Saturdays followed by an occasional Sunday; he has been in the retirement mode a few years longer than I have so perhaps he is correct.

Now, we count a good week as one that does not include blood tests or doctor visits, and suddenly we do worry more about numbers, but it is not only about the amount of money in the bank, we are now counting pressure numbers and readings only completely understood by our network of physicians.  We watch medical shows with greater interest than ever, and pursue sales of vitamins, minerals and supplements.

Yes, we can be seen standing outside the Exchange Bank for nearly an hour discussing our shared years working at Georgia Military College, the students we worked with and trying to make the community a better place to live.  Seeing my former supervisor at GMC brought back a flood of memories, thank you Thomas Murphy, retired military officer extraordinaire, for the walk down memory lane.  It sure was a pleasure to see you again.

"And in the end it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years."Abraham Lincoln

 

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