'First weekend with no subsequent week'

An alum messaged me on Facebook today, "So how's the first weekend with no subsequent week?"

Usually at this time on a Sunday afternoon, I would have to shift into high gear. There was always so much that needed to get done over a weekend, and by about 5 p.m. on a Sunday I would realize how much of it still remained to be done. So Sunday evenings were always a bit pressured: With the alarm going off at 6 a.m., how late would it be before I could mark everything "Done"?

This afternoon, when the cat climbed into my lap obviously wanting a long neck-scratching session, I let him stay. I still have a "Must do" list before bedtime -- that's inescapable in a holiday month -- but I'm not scrambling. The cat's happy, husband is happy. I'm going to go now and try a new recipe, pumpkin pancakes, for supper.

Not the only one!

In Googling for other blogs on retirement I came upon "The Dedalus Log," in which the very first paragraph distilled much of my feelings so far on retirement. So many of my friends, and my husband, had assured me without reservation that I would LOVE retirement. It was good to realize that I was not alone in feeling that retirement was a prospect fraught with uncertainties. This is what the Dedalus blogger wrote:

"The word retirement raises mixed feelings in me. The word both excites me, and repulses me. On the one hand, it generates visions of comfort, ease, relaxation, and freedom from the stress and constraints of work. I would not have to face the people, problems, and anxieties that bombard me every day as a middle school principal. I would be able to concentrate on the activities I enjoy: reading, writing, photographing, exercising, learning, meditating, and seeing new things and people. On the other hand, retirement also raises images of laziness, slovenliness, and activities without point or purpose. I see myself on a never-ending vacation: getting out of bed at 10:00 A.M., reading the newspaper until noon, distracting myself for hours on the computer, dining, drinking, and falling asleep in front of the television. I fear becoming dull, bored, and unkempt, without the need to produce, achieve, or impress."

I have wondered the same thing. One of my friends fears that if he retires, he will become a world-class piddler. I have wondered about that too.

But this, my first day of retirement, is not a time to worry about that. I'm going to close The Dedalus Log and go send some Christmas cards to my friends.....

First thing

It's a little after noon on Saturday. I moved out of the office yesterday, and I moved a large portion from the apartment this morning. Now I'm home, and this is it.

Friends have been asking, "What will be the first thing you'll do?" It seems like I should do something grand and symbolic. One of my friends said her husband, a busy gastroenterologist, went to the Mississippi River bridge right after he retired and, with some ceremony and great glee, threw his pager into the river.

I can't think of any comparably grand gesture... except to spend an evening doing nothing. There's a stack of boxes waiting to be incorporated into the household somehow and my dining room won't be useable until they are moved.... but 'nothing' sounds pretty grand to me. I think I'll go take a walk, then we might go out for dinner.....

Empty office

Last day

Oh, the little stuff.... Pulling my name off the tape dispenser. It's the last vestige of my identity in this room. The computer, of course, is still very much mine, but in a couple of weeks the hard drive will be wiped clean, ready for someone new. I find myself wondering about what kind of person will occupy this office next. Will it be a man or woman, what will they think of the little striped cat I'm leaving, that has sat on the top shelf of the bookcase with his fishing pole for 10 years now, dangling a little orange fish on the end of his line. Will the new occupant think he's cute, or flick him into the wastebasket first thing? My husband would remind me, 'You don't have to worry about that, you'll be gone,' and he's right.... but I wonder. What kind of person will it be, taking care of MY kids and watching over MY department? Would I approve?

It's time now to start carrying boxes out to the car.

Notes from the final week

It's been quite a fun week at the office, with a lot of people stopping by to talk. One of our alums, who now works across campus, stopped by to say he still had the retirement party pictures in his camera but he'd copy them off soon. When I pointed out that he is the busy dad of a toddler, he told me their latest story, of his and his wife's attempt to cut the little one's bangs. She would always wiggle and the bangs came out crooked, so they decided to try it while she was asleep. He put on a headlamp to help him see in the dark bedroom and his wife took the scissors. Snip, snip … and the child woke up. What must she have thought, our alum said, of this strange creature with a light shining from his head, peering over her in the dark, and a pair of giant scissors right above her eyes. Picturing the sight, I laughed out loud.

Then I stopped in at a co-worker's office, where our secretary was, and we three told more stories for awhile before we decided we had better get back to work.


A number of students have come by on their way out of town for the holidays, to catch me up on what they are doing and where they are headed -- some are graduating. Most of them have grad school in their sights; scary job market, I guess.

One of our student employees stopped by to say goodbye yesterday, and related that she is the next-to-youngest of 11 siblings, and she is aunt to 29 nieces and nephews. I know that she must have many stories to tell, if we weren't saying goodbye.

One of the new editors, who's been in and out of my office regularly for the past several weeks, stood outside my office door today with a clear look of panic on her face. "What will I do when this office is empty?" she wailed. She feels like she's heading into new and scary responsibilities with no rock to hold onto. She's more capable than she gives herself credit for, and I try to reassure her. One of my students from 20 years ago, who went on to be an editor at a major metropolitan newspaper, wrote the nicest note for my retirement party saying I gave her the confidence to believe she could be a writer and editor. I hope I have been able to do that with this student also.

One more day. I've still a list of loose ends!

Two days

Tomorrow is Thursday. By Friday afternoon, everything that I ever wanted to get accomplished in my job at the university needs to be COMPLETED, because time is up. I guess the key is to look forward, not backward at the bright ideas I had that never got off the ground, or the things I started that never got traction. It's time to look at what's there, tie up loose ends, then wrap it all up with a big bow and declare it Finished!

Walls

For some weeks now, I've been sorting and diminishing the two decades' accumulation of stuff in my office. The recycle guy has hauled out many pounds of paper and I have carried out a few boxes of books and photos. The room is looking noticeably emptier, or so I thought. But co-workers would come by and say, "Hmmm, you've got a ways to go yet!"

Last night I took down the pictures and favorite layouts from my walls. This morning co-workers walking by stopped in their tracks. The empty expanses of red paint signified an ending much more starkly than partially empty shelves had.

At one point I had thought the pictures and layouts would be the last to go. Taking them down took only 10 minutes. But I found I need that visual reminder that the end is coming and I need to speed up. I still have things to write and submit before I go, and a couple of problems to resolve, in addition to leaving this office with organized and labeled contents. But the walls are a reminder that the end is coming.

The final week

Three days left in the office. Some of the students are asking if my email address will still work, and can they send me a story now and then to look at? Hear that: They want my advice. Now who can turn down somebody who wants your advice? So of course I said yes. I don't think they'll do it TOO often.... I don't want to get anything started.

Other than that the turning loose is going pretty well. Walking to the parking lot Monday evening I saw a woman from another department. In my pre-retiree life, I would have chatted her up as part of a constant bridge-building effort with other departments. On Monday I smiled, nodded, and kept walking.

The packing, on the other hand, is  not going that well. There's too much I want to keep. I'm going to need a big new bookcase.....

Party!

Had a truly amazing retirement party. Such fun seeing people from the whole 20 years-plus span of my work there. My first boss was there; an early student sent a thank-you; a flock of students from 10 years ago took time out of their jobs to come say hello. And current students came too. We put my collection of desk toys around on the tables, and the students went 'round and chose their favorites to take home. I had a lifelike cardboard-cutout cat that had lived in my office window for about 15 years and I officially passed it on to our business manager. There was great food and amazing desserts, and lots of laughter. It was all great fun.

My West Coast retired friend -- who is mostly retired but she keeps going back to do a few things -- says retirement parties are important as part of that final letting go. She didn't have one; a well-meaning colleague mistakenly passed on the idea that she didn't want one. Now she thinks a party might have been useful as a sort of official cutoff. I think she is right. Although I have five days left in the office, after that time I have no plans to go back in any capacity. I'm done and have said my goodbyes.