Time in Retirement

I have reached that time of my life where "things slow down", and, "you have time". Well, in some respects, that is the case. This year I entered the world of retired persons. Sounds easy, doesn't it? To some extent, I do enjoy a shower pace, but things still need to get accomplished.

As I have often said to others, "I don't idle well". That more than likely is a product of my work habits as a 40 plus year career as a retail manager. There is always something to do, always someone to take care of, always issues to take under my wing. When I called it quits, it was in the spring and what happened was I missed the busy season in the hardware business. What that allowed me to do was to actually get spring things done outside of our home that needed to get done in the spring, and not get dragged out through the end of July. That is something My Beloved hopefully appreciates; things not put off, especially outside chores.

What is true; I don't idle well. I find it difficult to "sit and relax". I see things that I want to accomplish, tasks that have been put off too long, for as a retail manager, my short work weeks were a minimum of fifty hours. When you add it travel time, that creeps it up to over sixty hours, (I haven't worked within thirty minutes travel time of my home in twenty-five years). I am generally always looking for something to do whether it is home tasks, an art project or, what is calling to me lately, a return to writing and finishing off a book.

I tend to be a creative person, not that what I do or create is any better than what anyone else can do, however keeping on that horse also means getting better at that craft. One of the problems with letting things lapse, whether it is drawing and painting, or writing is the techniques begin to fade. To keep up, one must stay on one's game. That is one of the things I look to reignite in retirement is all those things I have let fall away due to the work-a-day world.

But let me also be clear, the work I have done to pay the bills over my lifetime is what has made me who I am, though hopefully, I ma more than the sum of my professional career. But since my work-life was one of specialty service to others, it has taught me many things, and that is hopefully something I don't lose as I now count myself among the retirement generation.

What I do hope is those habits of helping others through my career stay with me and keep me on track as a partner, father and grandfather.

One other thing, I will no longer use my old blog to put forth my thoughts on life and the world. I have let it lapse, though it was a good tool for writing and a link to my deceased brother Donald who was a strong voice in the blog, it is time to put that aside. What thoughts I have or chose to put forward will come from this page.

Welcome to my website...

This Christmas Eve

The day is nearly over. Not a typical Christmas Eve around these parts; there is no snow in Snowville and 50 degree days belong in Florida this time of year.

Today is my favorite day of the year. The hustle and bustle is finished both in my work world and the personal one. The gifts are wrapped and slipped beneath our wonderful tree as we await Santa's visit down our chimney. It's easier in our present home for Saint Nicholas as we have a real chimney to slide down.

But on this night my thoughts turn to My Beloved. This night belongs to her as well. She is the engine that turns our world, that makes this house a home for both myself and our little boy. It is her touch, her imprint, her love for us that wraps our world in a cozy blanket of warmth.

This year has been difficult as I have been away in the working world more so than nearly any year of our marriage. She has taken the challenge to keep our world from tilting on its axis. Through little league baseball games to fifth grade projects to caring for her aging mother, My Beloved has shown the world how strong she is, how caring, and wrapped that with love for everyone she touches.

When I kneel this night on Christmas Eve I realize that everything I could ever pray for on this day I already have. Trinkets and bobbles and tinsel and lights fade in comparison to who I walk beside each day of my life.

So this is my Christmas card to you this year, My Beloved, for you give me the gift of Christmas every day of the year.

Going Home

There's an old saying; you can't go home again.

Well, what does that really mean? I'm sure most people think it's about moving back into your parents home or revisiting family after a long absence and expecting, or at least hoping everything would be just like it used to be. I suppose that's one way to look at it.

I'm sure there are other scenarios that come to mind for many. I also think there are those who don't want to revisit 'home' or their past lives whether it refers to family or not. Perhaps that's why home isn't a place to revisit.

For me it takes on a different aspect. I've never been one to be tied to places or things. I've lived in several houses from childhood to adulthood. All of them have been 'home', but I don't have a longing to return to a specific place. It's like things, I'm not tied to specific things or items like personal belongings or cars. I simply don't wrap my identity around the tangible world. Houses are not my home, people from my past are my home.

I don't think that has ever been driven 'home' to me more so than it has recently. Although I have long time friends from school that I haven't seen in years there are several I could sit down with and have a conversation like I saw them a week ago. But I didn't grow up around them. We lived sort of off on our own from my school friends. None of them lived in my neighborhood. There, I had another group, two specifically that were like family and in the last month or so I have had the chance to reconnect with one of them.

Billy. I haven't seen him in years. We lost track of each other at some point in high school. He went off to the closest public school and I off to the Catholic school. Recently through the magic of Facebook we have been able to reconnect. To me, even though we are older, wiser and both grandfathers, it's almost like we were never away from each other. I can still hear his infectious laugh. Back in those days there were few times we weren't around each other. We rode our bicycles all over the place. We'd ride for miles and miles away from home even into surrounding suburbs. In those days no kid would have worn a helmet and our parents 'kinda' knew where we were...sort of. We ate meals at each other's home and slept out in tents in the back yard. Gee, no mischief to get into doing that.

We are different people than we were back in those days, obviously, our childhood up to early teen years. He is a successful entrepreneur who has built his own company and lives in a big city on the east coast. I live near where I grew up and have lived a comfortable life. There is one characteristic that I haven't mentioned; Billy is a Black man and I am a White man. Guess what, we were Black and White back then too. His was the first Black family that I can remember to move into our neighborhood. That was a shock to many who lived on the block and I'm sure his family felt the sting of that reality more than he ever recounted to me.

But that single fact never affected our friendship. We were nearly brothers for those years and reconnecting with him after all this time is really the point of this ramble. Some day we will get together, I have no doubt of that and when we do I know we'll be able to pick up a conversation like we saw each other two weeks ago.

My parents are long ago deceased and I miss them dearly, but to me, that is what it means to me to go home again.