Retirement, Take Two

I've been wrestling.

Conjures up images, doesn't it? 

No, my current wrestling has been harder.

As might have been predicted, 

my furlough during the global pandemic has proven to be a giant 'reset' button.

 I'm on my third week at home,
living with the latest reality check from the universe
that my time is finite.

If you're old (I am), immuno-compromised (also check)

and you're lucky enough to survive (so far, so good),

it forces you to think of everything you still want to do
with your allotted time on this earth.

Turns out my list is rather short:
 
1) Spend more time with children, grandchild, extended family and friends.

2) Read;
finally get to the stacks of books that have been waiting patiently

 - in some cases, for years.

3) Travel.
While I think international trips are off the table now, for a variety of reasons,

taking a national road trip with my dog is a distinct possibility.

I love long distance driving;
I find it meditative and relaxing,
at least when done during daylight hours.
My time of driving straight through to a destination at night is over.

Two particularly appealing options, at the moment, are driving to every National Park

 and/or

a tour of every 'Springfield' in the country

(no, I'm not a Simpsons fan);

it's just that the quixotic and whimsical aspect of that road trip appeals to me.

Should I get truly crazy,

I could always overlay the maps on top each other.

4) Learn to crochet.

I still haven't and I still want to.

5) Take more photos.

6) Be a better steward of my garden.
The 'good bones' it had in a previous reincarnation have all but disappeared
but, with time and care, it could be marginally presentable again.
(With age, you set smaller goals;
the garden resuming its previous splendor isn't on the table.)

Note to self: be sure to leave untamed areas where my grandson
can continue to dig for dinosaur bones and 'go on treasure hunts' in the wild.

You'll notice, as I did, that working at the hospital
is nowhere on the list.

The first time I retired, 

I knew beyond doubt that it was the right thing to do
and the right time to do it.
(see here if you're not aware of the story)

 I guess, I'm just used to the dramatic.
I mean, seriously, I heard directly from God the first time around;
it doesn't get more intense than that.

When I was complaining to a friend
 that I didn't have the blinding clarity this time,
he replied,"God, you're high maintenance.
How many mountaintop experiences do you think one person gets?
Besides, you don't think a global pandemic that threatens your very existence
is enough of a burning bush to warrant your attention"?

Point taken.

And, in actuality, I don't need a burning bush.

When this week ends,
so does this phase of my working life.

The end of my career is not without sadness;
it's not without trepidation and some anxiety -
yet none of those feelings
 means it isn't the right thing to do
and
the right time to do it.

Retirement 2.0