entering my freedom era
birthdays, aging, a surprise ending to my career
Every year since I’ve been writing online, I’ve published an essay ahead of my birthday about aging and denial and acceptance. Looking back, I can see that sometimes I repeated thoughts and phrases; getting old can be mundane. But each year, there is the recurring theme of “where did the time go” and the answer always seems to be “who the fuck knows?”
My birthday is three weeks away yet but it is August and that gets me thinking about it. But this one isn’t just about my birthday. This year it’s not just about the despair of getting older, or me lamenting how much of life I am missing or what I’ve done up to this point. I’ve got so much more going on now.
When I turned 60, I felt a little jarred, a little unnerved. I woke up on August 25th and said, holy shit I am a 60 year old. It bugged me for a bit that I was no longer 59. Turning that counter over to another decade of living felt like I was leaping into an abyss. I got over that pretty quick, as health issues took on the entire portion of my brain where I store worry and despair. I concentrated on getting better and taking care of myself and didn’t think too much about being 60.
Now here comes 61. No longer content to be just 60, my body and brain have conspired to take me into my sixties. I have taken a step from age ambiguity to this solid form where 60 is behind me laughing, pushing me down a slide, forcing me forwards. Sixties! I say it in front of the the mirror: “I am in my sixties” and my face - which is starting to show wrinkles - stares back at me forlornly. I think about my parents who are in their 80s and how I’m chasing them down the slide now, threatening to catch up. Because what’s the difference between 60 and 80?
I am retiring from my job. I made this decision over the weekend, after giving it weeks of thought, but it still feels like a surprise, like I just sprung it on myself. On Monday I called for my consultation, accepted the numbers, and then went online, clicked a few buttons on the New York State Retirement website and gave myself an end date of August 31, 2023. That’s thirty days from now.
I have spent my entire time since then fretting about it. Money is going to be very tight. It’s going to be a challenge. But my health has asked me to retire before and now it is demanding it. My life has been a whirlwind of hospitals and surgeries and recovery for two years. Even after my leg heals, I am left with other issues to deal with, with constant doctor appointments and tests. After 25 years of working in the same office building, seeing the same people, doing the same things, all while trying to maintain my health and my sanity, it’s just time.
Thirty days from now I will walk out of Nassau County District Court and not look back. I can’t even begin to imagine what it will feel like to close those doors behind me one last time. To get in my car and drive home, and not have to go back the next day or ever. Freedom? Sure. But I find freedom terrifying. I now have the rest of my life to do the things I said I would do ages ago. I will make that collection of essays and try to get it published. I will walk the neighborhood every day. I will get my house decluttered. I will see my friends more.
My plan is to freelance for extra money, but that comes with whole set of fears I’m not ready to address just yet. Maybe I’ll get a job in a library two or three days a week. I’m not sure yet and while you would think I’d have that planned out before I retired, you don’t know me very well. I am flying by the seat of my pans here and just hoping everything will turn out ok. I am going strictly on vibes.
So I am terrified of being in my 60s and terrified of retirement and that leaves me looking like this all the time:
I am always a Chuckie Finster at heart and these events are making that feel larger than life. I’m looking forward to so many things, but losing sleep over certain aspects of it. I want to approach my old age with devil may care attitude; I don’t want to be living scared all the time. I want to embrace this part of my life so I can fully enjoy being freed from the chains of a desk job I held since 1998.
Sixties. I’m starting this decade of my life fresh, unencumbered by a daily grind. I’m starting this decade with time on my hands and plenty of creative things to do with that time. I am starting it thinking this is going to be the best of me, this is going to help me become the person I’ve been striving to be for years. I hope my sixties see renewed health, both mental and physical, and new triumphs.
What can I do with the twenty or so (knock wood) years I have left on this planet? I’m still not sure, I just know I have the time and now the inclination to do it. Oh, I’ll always be scared. I’ll always be hesitant. But I am headed down that slide and I’m going to try and enjoy the ride.
[This is a good time to mention that if you want to support my writing monetarily - and I’ll be writing more often now - you can upgrade from free to paid subscriber. Every dollar helps and I’m certainly going to be in need starting September. Thank you]