Can You Hear Me Now

The trouble with retirement is that you never get a day off.

Abe Lemons

I love a good coming of age story. It doesn’t matter if it comes in the form of a movie, book, or song. I love thinking about the transition from one way of living to something completely different.

In many ways, a coming of age story is a variation of The Hero’s Journey. Both are emotional and physical tales that takes the protagonist from comfort to chaos, to a renewed, yet very different comfort. Well known examples include, To Kill a Mockingbird, Stand by Me, Treasure Island, and Lady Bird. Each is a story that depicts the journey from childhood innocence to some level of adulthood. Their journeys are filled with pain, hardships, and complications, but there is always the realization that turning back is not an option.

While coming of age stories typically deal with young children, I don’t see any reason why they cannot apply to older guys like me. Even as I fast approach the ripe age of 70, I can still relate to the same emotional struggles that Jim Hawkins experienced when he set sail with the one-legged pirate, Long John Silver. As frightened as he was at times, Jim knew that the only way out of his fear was to keep pushing through it.

Who can you trust? How do you tell right from wrong? Where do you find the strength to continue facing the unknown? These questions are prevalent for both the young and the old.

It was Silver’s voice, and before I had heard a dozen words, I would not have shown myself for all the world. I lay there, trembling and listening, in the extreme of fear and curiostiy, for, in those dozen words, I understood that the lives of all the honest men aboard depended on me alone. Robert Louis-Stevenson

I am two years and a month into my coming of age retirement story and this feels like a good time to pause and take a few measurements. While there may be a few pats on the back, I am more interested in creating a statement of being. I want this to be more of a reflection than a boast.

Connection

The last few years of my working life were done from home. While I was happy to be finished with commuting back and forth across town, I missed having coworkers just over the cube wall and down the hall. Video meetings get the basic job done, but they are not the same as face-to-face conversations. With the exception of lunch with a coworker while on vacation in Arizona, I did my entire Avaya stint without being in the same physical space as any of my many coworkers. I had four managers during those final four years and never once met a single one. How well can you know people under those circumstances?

As I shuffled my way into retirement, I knew I didn’t want to do it alone. I needed people in my life — real people that didn’t exist only in a video conference or on a telephone call.

This led me to rejoining the Unitarian Church Linda and I once attended on a regular basis. In fact, prior to attending a single Sunday service, I starting showing up at the three men’s groups the Church offers. I eventually dropped one of the groups (it is held on Zoom and I am done with virtual meetings), but the other two have become important mainstays in my life.

I have grown to love the conversation, vulnerability, commonality, zaniness, and respect demonstrated at these get-togethers. In our own unique ways, we are all heroes minus the capes, masks, and clever nom de plumes.

Service

I no longer draw a paycheck, but with my volunteer positions I am working just as hard as I ever did. In fact, there are times when I feel I am working even harder than any of my paid jobs. Working harder, but finding more fulfillment.

Although there are a few one-offs, the foundation of my volunteer life consists of church and AARP.

My main church job is cooking for our weekly Wellspring Wednesday dinners. As someone who loves being creative in the kitchen, I adore chopping, pealing, baking, and even washing dishes. I am proud of the meals we prepare and take home as much joy as I put into the them.

When I am not cooking, I help with the church auction and rummage sale, offer technical support for their aging phone system, pass out Orders of Service on Sunday mornings, and more often than not say “yes” to the various odds and ends jobs that keep popping up. I have even found myself a member of the Bell Ringers Guild and can tell you the difference between peeling and tolling a bell.

My AARP work is a horse of a different color. Cyber fraud is an epidemic and I travel around the Twin Cities teaching folks how to recognize it, avoid it, and if necessary, repair the damage it causes.

This requires me to stay current on the latest scams and any new remediation techniques. Just recently, I spent several hours repairing the PC of a woman who got caught up in a Punchbowl Invitation Scam. I am happy to report that no lasting damage was done. The PC is once again virus free and the victim is far more prepared for the next attack. I cannot begin to tell you how much satisfaction I take from that.

Growth

My blog is filled with articles about my spiritual journey. If you are so inclined, check out my missives on the Five Theological Questions. The last question I answered, On Finding the Sacred, has links to my previous work.

This has been an amazing adventure and one I will be processing for a long time to come. There are still plenty of paths to explore, none of which have a finish line.

I would be remis if I did not add writing these blog articles to my growth work. For the past two+ years, I have be vigilant about being open, expressive, and vulnerable in my writing. While I maintain some privacy, I’ve said more than I ever expected to say about myself and that has been a very good thing.

Resistance

This past year and a half I have been knee deep in the fight for American democracy. I’ve written enough about my resistance efforts so I won’t bother repeating the details here. Let’s just say that it a rare week when I don’t do at least one thing to fight the ongoing onslaught of authoritarianism.

Family

I am a decent, yet flawed parent. There are so many things I wish I had done differently during my child raising years. Thankfully, my three boys turned grew into amazing men who have an opportunity to be better dads than I was.

That said, I am a pretty good grandfather — or Boppa as I am known around here. I have been granted something of a do-over and I am not going to squander the opportunity. Whether it’s pulling a wagon full of kids to the playground, caring for a sick child knowing I will get sick too, or getting down on my hands and knees to play peek-a-boo for the 10,000th time, I am there for my granddaughters and grandsons heart and soul.

A family is a place where principles are hammered and honed on the anvil of everyday living. Charles R. Swindoll

Letting Go

Prior to turning in my resignation at Avaya, I was afraid that I would miss being a programmer. It’s what I did best for the 40+ years of my technical life. I even equipped my brand new post-retirement PC with most of the development tools I relied upon. I thought they would be important in the next chapter of my life.

It turns out, they are not. Yes, I do have a few side projects that continue to entertain me, but months go by where I don’t write a single line of code. I have learned that being a software developer no longer defines me. Coding may be something I turn to from time to time, but it is no longer necessary for personal fulfillment.

Red Chair Fade Away

There is more I could say, but I’ve hit on the high points. In summation, my post working life leans heavily into connection and service. Together, they form the foundation of a joyful retirement. I am striving to build a life that is all about being with people while trying to do some good in the world — often at the same time.

Even though some retired folks feel the need to travel the world (and I have nothing against those that do), I am more compelled to embrace the people and places right outside my front door. They are the fuel that burns within me. They are the reasons I keep finding life worth living.

Thank you for reading.

There is an age I’m told where cavalier and careless
give way to restraint and reserve
where conformity is prized above all
and singularly becomes a relic of a reckless past
the age of submission of falling in line and gleeful surrender

And yet, here I am
long past 60
still heedless
still rash
disregarding boundaries
and forever coloring outside the lines