When my parents
retired 27 years ago,
I imagined that they would
be waiting for death
to come for them and
I was surprised to discover
that their third stage was (much)
more like a honeymoon
than a funeral.
They weren't in a state of denial and
their life was full of new challenges,
discoveries, and contributions.
They got their affairs in order,
financial, spiritual,
and personal.
They made new friends
in a new city,
as if they had come from outer space.
They though and examined
every choice they made,
and made the best of every moment.
They analyzed every dream they
had, and whether they would
be more productive if they
took a nap in the afternoon.
They kept an accurate accounting
of what they spent,
and how the stock market
was treating them.
They spoke of their life
as being in heaven, and
considered joining the
Hemlock Society,
vowing to only continue residing
on Earth if they could
be healthy and independent.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Waiting for Death
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1 comment:
Does retirement mean death? It does: death of one part of life, but birth of the next part. Some are afraid to die and leave behind all that they know. Retring, to my father, is confusing. It is not about all the things I can do. He asks, "should I do them now, those things?"
Now is a good time. Now that you were cleared of your cancer. Retire the burden of working for others. Commit to working for yourself and family. See more of the world. Think about what is important now.
Every now and then we struggle to make a decision. Making decisions are easy for some but difficult for most of us. Retiring is about discovering who you are based on who your were. Retiring means starting. Retiring means thinking. Retiring means dying only when you decide it is time. kjt
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