it’s time for a walk! Let’s go!
The key to retirement is to find joy in the little things.
-Susan Miller
It’s been six years since I retired and began walking with Waldo on a daily basis. It’s time to assess how things are going…
I’m still in pretty damn good health. I have my wits about me and, with the exception of back pain, that I’ve learned how to manage, I’m probably (due to walking Waldo every day) in better shape than when I first retired. True, I’ve lost much of my muscle mass and some strength (unscrewing the lids off of some jars can be a challenge) and when I look in the mirror, I can’t help but wonder, how the hell did I ever become that. But, by and large, I’m reasonably happy (again in no small part due to Waldo) and I can physically and mentally function better than most my age and even better than many quite a bit younger. The event horizon of my life is looming somewhere off in the not-too-distant future, but I’m not yet feeling its inexorable pull.
I can’t claim to have ever looked forward to retirement. Working in the ER was stressful, but I never had a day when I resisted going to work. It didn’t burn me out.
There were social aspects to being at work. I certainly interacted with many different kinds of people in many different ways and circumstances. That gestalt lies in the past, but I can be as social as I’ve a mind to be now. For example. on my last trip to Switzerland, I enjoyed, very much, trying to draw people I encountered into French conversation. Phyllis, who was with me, sometimes felt that I was intruding on a stranger’s space, but I was sensitive enough to back off when it became apparent that the other person wasn’t interested in exchanging bon mots. Still, I put myself out there, in a convivial manner, whenever the chance arose and I was, more often than not, rewarded by meeting some very friendly people. You can’t be totally alone if you don’t allow yourself to be shy. Most of the time, though, I’m perfectly happy just interacting with my friends and family – which includes Waldo, of course.
There were times when my job was very rewarding. Like when someone’s life was hanging on a precipice and I pulled them back from the brink. I can think of little that would give me more of a sense of accomplishment and making a worthwhile difference. But there were other times, too, when despite doing everything humanly possible, it just wasn’t enough. Over time, I learned how to be philosophical about that, but, at the very least, it had a subliminal effect on me. Overall, though, I retired with the feeling that I had done something good with my life. Even so, when I retired, I felt that it was time to pass on the baton and move on to other things. That chapter was over and it was time to turn the page. I haven’t regretted that decision.
Being retired doesn’t mean that you suddenly have a lot of freedom. For one thing, while you may have more control over your time, you likely have less wherewithal to pursue your desires. For most of us, a retirement income is fixed and limited. Add to that the fact that the older you are, the less functional you become. Because of all that, I don’t regret, at all, that I significantly whittled away at my nest egg so that I could climb Mount Kilimanjaro and compete in aerobatic competitions, for example. I was always mindful that it was better to spend my future savings so I could do now what I would regret not doing later because I was too old to do it. I think it worked out well. My life, now, is relatively quiet and I don’t desire much. But it’s full of many valuable memories that I can reminisce over in that quiet.
Because I’m retired, I’m better able to do some things that I couldn’t before. I have time to write and walk all over New England. I have the blessed opportunity to not only think about, but to commune with, what the human experience is all about – for hours at a time. I can raise a dog from a little puppy to an adult (whose age is rapidly approaching my own) and in a very close and companionable way. I’ve always been interested in learning to interact, in a meaningful way, with another species. Why, I’m not quite sure. But being around a dog almost 24/7 and intimately exchanging thoughts, ideas and experiences (in the way we’ve mutually created) has proven to be uniquely rewarding.
Meanwhile, Waldo has grown from a self-absorbed, OCD/ADHD puppy to a loving, cooperative, yet very much independent, dog. He’s a happy, healthy guy who is enjoying living life even though it’s in a third-story apartment. People we pass on the trail tell me, “He’s so happy! And cute!”
“He’s got a good heart too,” I reply. “But his brain’s a bit bent!” (Come to think of it, people just might say the latter about me!) By that, I’m trying to express the idea that he’s not human and does, on occasion, some very unacceptable stuff, for a human. But, for Waldo, it’s just fine. We make allowances for each other and enjoy our differences.
My final assessment, to date, about retirement while Walking With Waldo?
So far, so pretty damn good.
No excuses, now. Let’s go!