My Golden Years

“My Golden Years” by Mary Scanlon

Are you still working? The first time I heard that question, I thought how odd.  I mean, doesn’t everyone work, at least at something?  I began to learn that there is an invisible line between those who work and those who are retired, those enjoying the “golden years” where all they have is time, time and more time.  At least hopefully they do.

I heard rumors about the impending Golden Handshake, as many teachers in my district did, early in the 2008-2009 school year.  Those of us who were close to retirement immediately began figuring and figuring and figuring out whether or not it made enough financial sense to move into those golden years if the district in fact decided to give us a year’s salary as an incentive to retire.  The district needed to downsize our staffs in the middle of the Great Recession.  Pieces of paper with numbers all over them started to appear everywhere in my home and in my classroom and I hate to admit it even  in my car  (calculated during red lights).  Could I do it?

I was 59 years old and would be 60 by the end of that school year.  Because I had spent tens of thousands of dollars buying back almost five of my Massachusetts years, I would have thirty years credit by the end of that year.  I wasn’t old enough (62) to earn the highest percentage of pay possible in my pension, but the CAL-STRS representative who set my mind at ease affirmed that my pension would be higher if I continued working, but it would be enough if I accepted the handshake.

What, no more vocabulary quizzes floating around the back seat of my car? No more weekends tormented by essays to grade and lessons to be prepared? No more cold, 

“Are you still working?” backbiting school atmosphere?  I had left my home school two years previously, hoping to find an exciting new challenge in a reform-minded small school, only to be greeted by hostile students who were unwilling to work (I did eventually win them over), while I was faced with ten to twelve hour days including most Saturdays, and a cold as ice principal who had no compunctions about changing grades as she harassed those staff members who refused to comply.  What was there to miss?

I will never forget the principal’s reaction to my news.  The ice cold air conditioning was warm and inviting compared to her stare. She grimaced as she warned “Everyone HATES retirement! They all want to come back! You won’t be able to afford the medical expenses! You will be bored and lonely!”  I felt as if she were cursing me so that I would always regret leaving her school.  Before I left, she gave me an address book (an obviously re-gifted item) with her address scrawled inside, as if to say let me know how miserable you are….

Needless to say, leaving that toxic environment was such a welcome change.  I was thrilled when I received my pension check the very first month. I wasn’t used to being paid in July and August! The summer seemed normal other than that as I was used to summers off.  That September, I wrote on my Facebook page:  Mary is not going back-to-school shopping this year.  Then: Not returning to school tomorrow feels less strange than I thought it would. I feel so fortunate to have learned from so many amazing students and dedicated teachers for so many years -- and I want to keep those connections! I'm looking forward to traveling, etc., but also to discovering my next endeavor..... 

Little did I realize the twists and turns that journey would take.  The first Monday I didn’t have to work, I decided to go to Costco. No lines! No crowded parking lot! Zipping through the store! I hopped in the car and thought about what I wanted to buy.  On my way I had to drop off some letters at the post office near my home so I turned down the street to the post office.  Suddenly traffic came to a standstill as I watched elderly people trying to maneuver in and out of the parking lot.  I waited patiently as I started to inch toward the mail boxes.  First one driver then another couldn’t reach the mail slot from their car, so they had to get out, put the mail in the slot, get back into their cars and mosey on.  The third driver dropped her mail on the ground so she too had to get out of her car and put the mail into the slot.  A quick errand turned into ten minutes in a parking lot.

Ah, but Costco was waiting for me! I gleefully pulled into the lot right before ten o’clock, opening time for the store.  I didn’t realize the new coupon book had just come out.  The parking lot was surprisingly full.  I found a cart and prepared to move at my rapid pace through the store.  As soon as I entered, I was blocked by slowly moving carts manned by white haired people with canes and walkers.  An occasional scooter followed them. Maneuvering through the store was slower than the day before Christmas! Wait: were these people now my PEERS?  Then it dawned on me: being retired meant GETTING OLD!!! WHAAAATTTT???

I learned that day not to go shopping at Costco on Monday morning. I also learned very soon after that not to go into the ladies’ locker room at the gym right after the water aerobics class let out (same group more or less as Costco, just NAKED this time!!!)   I spent that first year exercising, hiking, and traveling to Hawaii, Utah, and Italy (separate trips).  That spring I decided to add a relationship to the mix and so began my online dating fiasco I mean experience.  

Besides learning that I was barreling toward old age, I also began to see that work had provided me with a strong sense of purpose and a community of caring friends and associates that I saw Monday through Friday.  The removal of work meant the removal of those two very important aspects of my life.  I also had to manage my own schedule which turned out eventually to be the thing I like best about retirement but also was the part that brought me the most challenges.  I was confronted with questions like what do I like to do. Who am I?  For so long I had defined myself as mother and teacher and others’ needs almost always came first.  Now my son had disconnected from me in a very painful way so I had no work and no connection with him.

I became involved in a relationship with a Latin (like my son) not quite yet divorced guy who had adopted two Latin babies with his wife (like I had adopted Alex, but on my own).  I thought it was cosmic to meet him and hoped it would attract my son back to me.  I pushed down my own preferences and habits and adapted to his and maintained a visor like grip on our relationship even though after a 37 year marriage he made it clear he was single in name and in spirit.  I continued to exercise and travel, this time to China, Ireland and Italy for a second time.  I also reconnected with my son during this period, much to my relief and happiness.

After the inevitable break up with the happily single guy, I experienced a great deal of pain as I tried to adjust to so much time alone.  The end of the relationship was my focus as I drank wine and listened to old voice mail messages over and over, but in my heart I knew that was not the real problem.  I had to confront who I was now that my roles didn’t define me. I had to find new purpose and create new community. I had to move on to the next phase of my life.  And I had to accept growing old.  

Luckily, my good friend Carol retired from her teaching job and we shared our struggles with retirement while we cycled and worked the weight machines at the gym.  We recounted days of wondering what to do next, of being tired of house projects, of needing and wanting more.  She is married but she listened patiently as I described all of the men I was meeting online, kissing (or to be more accurate, not kissing) many frogs as they say.   We shared stories and occasional tears about our journeys toward a fulfilling retirement.  

I realized from observing my other retired friends that we each branched out in different ways.  One became immersed in political action, another in quilting and volunteering to teach quilting to elementary students, another in spending time with her grandchildren.  I mentored student teachers and first year teachers for three years, but then realized it was time to break away from education.  I acknowledged that balance was most important to me since it was so hard to achieve balance when I was a single parent and teaching high school English for so many years, so I used that as my goal in designing my retirement. I knew I had to force myself to walk into rooms of strangers as I branched out into new adventures but also I had the option of picking and choosing what I would get involved in and how long I would stay.

Now I exercise most days a week, take writing classes at UCSD and belong to a writing group where we share and critique our work every two weeks. I enjoy plays, movies and dancing to live music, and meet up occasionally with new and old friends on both coasts.  I also enjoy being home alone sometimes. I have joined Rotary and participate in volunteer activities through that organization.  I have abandoned online dating but my circle of friends continues to expand.  My travels seem to be mostly to family on the east coast but Barcelona is definitely on the to do list.  Best of all, my son, his wife and my two grandchildren are stationed four hours away and they are very much a part of my life.  I have recaptured who I am and what I like to do.  My activities may change, my face will continue to wrinkle, but I no longer break out in a cold sweat if I go to Costco on a Monday morning.  I still do not, however, go into the gym locker room when the water aerobics ladies are there.