Welcome to my retirement blog.
I start with a confession. I say “confession” because I seriously thought that retirement would be different. I thought that the amount of energy that I poured into my morning routine (read “crunchtime”) for the past 35 years — making coffee, feeding the pets, slogging through my morning jog, showering and dressing, organizing my materials for the day’s tasks and battling my usual hour- and-fifteen-minute commute into Washington, D.C. would somehow be redirected into a neat progression of transforming my home and garden into a four-star destination, my hair and makeup into a photo-op worthy of People magazine and the creative mojo I needed to produce a wonderfully delightful blog. It’s true that my workplace wardrobe choices were so well-practiced over the years that they barely required reflection at all — just enough to minimally qualify as “workplace casual” — and my hairstyle usually consisted of pulling my hair into a bun or ponytail without so much as a single brushstroke to straighten the furrows, but I still thought that the time and energy savings would be more than sufficient to accomplish great things.
Before retiring in September of 2019, I had worked for 35 years as an attorney — the last 22 of those years in the criminal justice area. While my duties varied depending upon my particular position, my last position required me to interface with the public on a daily basis. The work hit me like a ton of bricks the minute I entered the office. I had to constantly remind myself to sip from one of the multiple bottles of water I kept on my desk or simply to get up from the desk and stretch. I had done this particular job for a year and I’d done it well. But it was stressful, the workload was crushing, and I longed for a chance to engage in happier pursuits.
I thought retirement would be a snap. After all, I was disciplined and I managed time well. But my early morning routine was completely up-ended. While I remembered to go on my morning run, I barely brushed my teeth and completely forgot about hydroflossing. My 32-ounce-a-day water consumption habit completely disappeared. My work output was non-existent as I struggled for the first time in 25 years without IT support. I didn’t realize that even the smallest computer functions — like editing a pdf or sending a document electronically — required a subscription! And, not the least bit ironically, bereft of the daily therapy (collective whining) of my colleagues and staff, I was lost and depressed. No longer could I console myself with the gorgeous views outside my office windows of the Capitol or the jets landing at Reagan International Airport or the Potomac River beyond or zip down to Jose Andres’ Jaleo for a quick bowl of fantastic gazpacho. A part of me wanted to cry. What had I done? Was it really greener on the other side? Follow along with me as I try to discover the truth about retirement!
Coping with Covid.
We’re germ carriers, we’re huggers, we’re rule breakers (no really, maintain social distances!) but we’re also resilient, caring, risers to the occasion, and we’re all in this together. We’re all finding new ways to live, connect and stay grounded.
The spread of the pandemic to Maryland was immediately concerning. My husband, age 71, is an anesthesiologist who had recently been hospitalized and, although back at work (pretty much trading his hospital gown for his scrubs), he still suffered from dyspnea (shortness of breath). No N-95 masks were available. Sensing my worry, our house painter came to the rescue and donated an N-95 mask for my husband to use. Then came the Stay-at-Home Order. For my family, which was scattered across DC and Maryland, the Maryland Stay-at-Home Order, issued with less than a day’s notice, was jolting. Physically separated during the week due to his work, my husband and I had to make some quick decisions and, ultimately, we both decided to hunker down at our tree farm on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. My husband took his employer up on its offer and took an unpaid leave of absence. It turns out that retirement was good practice for quarantining. We continue to try to stick to routines of exercise, work and relaxation. For exercise, we bike on the cross-county trail in our community and tend to our garden and some long-overdue home-improvement projects. We communicate with our friends, family and colleagues via Zoom. We even shared Easter dinner over Zoom – the invitation from our middle son cheekily read “No pants, no service!” We leave the house only to shop for groceries and try to limit the number of times we do so. We are becoming quite resourceful in finding substitutes for exotic spices and even those most essential everyday items (“Pass the Kleenex box, please!”). We are mindful of giving each other space!!
It’s not over by a long measure so keep on pushing. Stay positive — you are brushing up on long-neglected hobbies and crafts, becoming more resourceful, and learning new coping skills. And, most importantly, stay safe!