Day 363 - Retirement Story

Retirement Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

“Every man for himself and the Devil take the hindmost” – early 16th century proverb.

The wood creaked as he sat down. He leaned back and pushed up, using only the tips of his toes, and he let the weight of his body fall backwards. He rocked in the rocking chair, while looking out across the lake. The cabin was his, by God. She may have gotten just about everything else, but the cabin was his. He hadn’t made a great deal. He hadn’t wanted a great deal, he had wanted this view. So that was what he got, and he was happy enough to have what he had. It was a short list of simple pleasures and that one was very high on it.

It was a peaceful and relaxing day, as if someone had made it especially for him. The water was calm and the wind was light and the temperature was mild. It was a perfect day to sit back and relax and let time slip away. In a few weeks, or maybe even a few days, he might have to put on a sweater. He laughed – he couldn’t remember the last time he wore a sweater. He certainly hadn’t needed it when he was working. It had been so long since he had been at the cabin during winter. So long. Too long. It would be getting colder from here on out for the remainder of the year. It might even snow soon. Snow. It had been years since he had dealt with snow. That would be a change he’d have to get used to.

It had been so long since he was able to sit and relax and just sit and relax and not think of all the things he should be doing. It seemed like he had been working his entire life. He never took a break. No vacations. No holidays. No days off. Certainly that wasn’t entirely true, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been working.

He didn’t really mind that though. He wasn’t a workaholic, but he had no problem with putting in more than his fair share. He liked to have purpose. He liked having something to push him. He liked being busy. He took great pride in what he did and he did it well.

This might be the biggest change of them all. He welcomed the coming of new events and the evolution he would be forced to make.

No job lasts forever. Not even his. He realized that. He knew that going in. That was part of the agreed-upon deal. Still, he hadn’t seen the end coming. It was still a surprise, even if the writing had been on the proverbial wall. If anybody had job security, he thought it would be him.

He thought there should have been more warning, more time for him to prepare. At the exit interview they asked him about what he thought he got right and where he thought he failed. No one wants to fail. He wasn’t sure he had. He had a lot to think about. He wasn’t sure what they would do without him. They didn’t seem to listen to that part.

He had been given a pocket watch with an inscription. He had heard about that in stories, but didn’t realize people actually did things like that. The inscription read “Hell of a good job.” It was nice., direct and to the point. They weren’t even trying to be subtle.

He had thought of quitting. He had thought of that many times. To have a nice and quiet life free from responsibility, from notoriety. But he made a deal. He signed the paperwork. A deal was a deal. He had agreed to it. And he liked it. He wanted it. He needed it. It was a part of him. It was him. His future, his past, his destiny, his fate.

What was he going to do now? The future – that was the question. That was always the question. What is the future? What does it hold? What does it mean? He used to see the future. He used to know the future. He could create the future. He saw everything all the way up until the end. But what came after the end? That was the kicker. That was what he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He wasn’t sure it involved sitting on his back porch and looking at the lake all day. He wasn’t sure it didn’t.

He liked having a quiet place for once. Everything else had always been so loud. So busy. It was new and different, but that didn’t mean this was bad. Quiet and slow had its merits. He was free from responsibility. He was free from contracts. He was free from deals and negotiations and plans and plots and all of that. He was free.

Sure he had freedom now, but he didn’t have much else. He wondered about her. He wondered if she was happy with what she had or if she had something figured out to do. He wasn’t sure if things would be harder on him or on her. The way things used to be, he’d be okay, and it would be her that would struggle. But the world had changed, life had changed. Now he was the one sitting on a porch and thinking. She was probably out doing something, creating something new. She would probably run the world and he would still be sitting in his rocking chair. He would have to figure out something to do – he knew what they said about idle hands and all that.

Maybe he could fall in love and live out the golden years with someone. When he was working he never really had much time to focus on that. He had seen plenty of love come and go and had never taken it too seriously. He had enjoyed the company of women, probably too many women. But that wasn’t love. He wasn’t sure what he believed in. It just seemed like something that the young and the foolish jumped into and those that didn’t have it waxed poetically about. He didn’t really know where he stood on the whole thing. And besides, he was old and retired now. Older, but not any wiser. What did he have to offer? And he knew what the world said about old men and younger women. He couldn’t see himself wanting that sort of retirement.

He was sure he felt the capacity to love before. He was sure he could feel it again. He didn’t know if anyone could ever love him again. He wasn’t sure anyone should. He had done so many things, he didn’t know what he deserved now.

After the divorce he wanted a quiet place to live, and that was what he got – the lake house. The cabin was his. For better or worse, it was his. And unfortunately, so was the quiet soul-searching that came along with it.