Retirement Journey: Part III
The Backstory
As I begin this essay on retirement, it’s another frigid winter day in Madison, Wisconsin, my chosen home for over 50 years. Today is the kind of day to muse and reflect on life. It’s one of the best decisions I ever made, moving from my hometown of Racine to this progressive seat of state government and the University of Wisconsin.
There are some decisions we make that change the trajectory of our lives. For me, this was one of them. Others include storytelling and writing about my life, dropping out of college and gaining my education in the streets as a social activist, marrying my first love, coming out as a lesbian, recovering from alcohol, substances, and harming behaviors, my long-term lesbian partnership, the decision to live alone and thrive, and most recently, retire after working for 65 years beginning at 11-years-old.
One common theme in each of those decisions is that I crossed the threshold of an unknown journey —yet trusted in that knowing place in my gut — it was the right decision at the right time. Forever grateful.
Retirement Journey Series
This is the third and final installment (I think!) of my retirement journey series. The first was how and why I made the decision to retire at the end of 2025. The process began the year before when I returned to therapy and addressed how I wanted to change my relationships with friends and family, how I wanted to live my remaining years, and what kind of legacy I wanted to leave behind. In mid-November I announced my resignation and retirement.
Retirement Journey: Part I — From Human Doing to Human Being
“It is utterly false and cruelly arbitrary to put all the play and learning into childhood, all the work into middle age, and all the regrets into old age.” — Margaret Mead
I began looking ahead too. I asked questions, “How do I want to live my remaining years?” “What is left undone?”
Friends, family, and work colleagues questioned, why retire now. My answer, “You may ask, what do I plan on doing? I’m a list maker, and I have to-do lists and to-do if I want to lists that are waiting for my time and attention. I have writing projects, both pending and new projects to complete, films to watch, plus brunches and coffees with friends and family.”
Retirement Journey: Part II — The Last Chapter: Retirement Reset
“You cannot give your life more time, so give your time more life.” — Unattributed
At the end of 2025, I looked back at the year. As a person in recovery, at the end of the day, I often take a daily inventory, a review of the day to assess my successes and missteps. I ask if there are amends to be made, and how I can do better moving forward. At the end of each year, like many others on the eve of the New Year, I look back at the highlights and lowlights — the gains and the losses — the hellos and goodbyes.
Life is a journey, and retirement is a new path. “The path ahead: Take it one day at a time, to live in the moment, to be a human being, not a human doing, and when I’m able, a human becoming.” — Retirement Aspiration
Current Status
As I written before, I’m a creature of habit, including the habit of procrastinating, making weekly and daily to-do lists, and while I was still working half-time with Fridays off and three-day weekends, I posted a TGIF Update on Facebook on Fridays. I continue to do so. Some habits are hard to break.
Since I live alone, it’s an opportunity to let family and friends know what I’m up to and If I have time open in my schedule, to get together for coffee or brunch, see a movie, or chat on the phone. Though I’m an ambivert by nature, I strike a balance between time for myself and time shared with others. It works. One lesson in the early days of my retirement, was work was a social connector. It’s important I find ways to include that in my week again.
January is an impactful month. My birthday lands mid-month. It’s also the anniversary of my sister Cindy’s death, and today as I write, the 10th anniversary of our mother’s passing. In January 2024 we buried our father. Lots of grief, memories, and gratitude for our shared experiences.
When I retired on 12/31/25, I didn’t anticipate that at the beginning of the 76th year of my life — the gift was time — to lean into my grief and to reflect on what precious life remains ahead for me. Past. Present. Future.
76th Birthday Cake, Spice Cake with Caramel Frosting, a childhood favorite.
What Have I’ve Been doing?
People ask me, “How is retirement going? What have you been doing?” I’ve been a little untethered. It reminded me of a poem I wrote over a decade ago, Uncharted.
Uncharted
“I feel like I’m in a small boat, rocking back and forth, not having a rudder or oar to steer me. I’m at the mercy of the waves and where they may take me, where I may drift closer to or further from the shore. — Journal entry, 4/6/2012
Day breaks open my heart.
Fear greets me.
The comfort of sleep disrupted
as dreams dissolve, dissipating
in the morning light.
I’m reminded in this fragile moment
of both the promise of a new day
and my inevitable mortality.I exist at the intersection,
the longitude and latitude of my journey,
the culmination of choices,
the destination to which I’ve navigated
a day at a time. Decades later
I’m uncertain at what the new day may bring,
how the course of my life may change
as I steer the rudder of my heart.LLL
4/21/12
I posted this update on Facebook mid-January when friends, family, and work colleagues asked me, what have I been doing:
Retirement Update: For those of you who’ve been asking, “How is retirement going so far?”, here’s my answer: The past two weeks I’ve cooked, baked a birthday cake, celebrated my birthday, brunched with friends, attended the Winter Farmer’s Market at Garver Feed Mill, watched three films in a movie theater, viewed The Critic’s Choice Awards and The Golden Globes, watched news, morning till night, commented about politics on social media, streamed content, procrastinated about purging and housecleaning projects, attended a funeral visitation for a former employer, made multiple to-do-lists, phone calls and messages with friends and family, napped, and napped again, plus, had moments of guilt that I should be doing something productive, and yes, I’m aware, this is a run-on sentence. So far, so good! Grateful.
I’ve already identified I need to preserve habits that still work plus create new ones. Work will no longer be the focus of my life other than the work of self-care, nurturing relationships, pursuing avocations, chasing curiosities, and contributing to community.
Work has been one focus of my life since 11-years-old, when I measured my value for what I did, rather than who I am. Now I need to revise that script. I’ve made mistakes already as I recalibrate relationships, and ask first, “What do I want to do?” rather than my codependent habit of caretaking, or people-pleasing. I also ask, “How do I want to be treated?”
I’ve learned, after years of recovery from alcohol, substances, harming behaviors, and codependence, that setting new boundaries, communicating changing needs, and putting myself first is awkward, and I make mistakes creating conflict requiring amends.
What’s Ahead?
The answer: Writing will be my work and passion during retirement. I have pending works to complete, content to edit and self-publish, and new projects to begin. Life ahead: One day at a time, one opportunity after another to be a human being and a human becoming, rather than a human doing.
Let’s schedule a coffee date or phone call, and I’ll let you know what I’ve learned and I’ll ask, “What’s new with you?
Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My
From Human Doing from Human Being (Retirement Journey: Part I)
The Last Chapter: Retirement Reset (Retirement Journey: Part II)