Saturday, December 28, 2019


December 28, 2019

And so we come to the last few days of The Year of Our Lord Two-thousand Nineteen. I'm grateful for another five-day stretch at home. It's getting more and more difficult to remain in the workforce. I am so very blessed to be able to contemplate retiring well before sixty-five. 

To me, retirement represents a time of renewal. Being forced into the role of caregiver, my writing stalled. I'm not afraid to admit I resent that happened. Don't judge lest it happen to you. Anyway, time and space are realigning and I'm able to write. Writing is a major part of my retirement plan. 

I've also had the opportunity to reconnect with the spousal unit. His health is not robust, but he's pretty self-sufficient at the moment. It was just bad luck that both he and my stepfather needed care at the same time. After my stepfather's death, RC was able to provide a lot of support while I settled affairs. He can sort stacks of invoices, product manuals, old receipts, and old photos with the best of them. And he'll work on that crap for hours at a time, having excellent focus for that sort of work. I feel like we weathered a huge storm and have arrived at the other side intact. Spending quality time with the man, the dog, and the cat is a major part of my retirement plan. 

Losing contact and closeness with old friends seems to be pandemic these days. Everyone bemoans this shared experience. Many simply accept it as part of aging. I don't think I want to do that. Reconnecting with those I hold dear is a major part of my retirement plan. 

So there's a few of my thoughts as this old year comes to a close. It was certainly not my best year ever, but maybe not the absolute worst. I think 1983, when Dad died, holds that distinction. It grieves me a bit he never lived to be able to contemplate "retirement." He was only fifty-four and I know his early death is the main reason I so badly wish to leave the workforce now. People should have a long "retirement" the way my grandfather did. He had thirty years to live as he pleased, enjoying his garden and flower beds, his dogs, and all of nature surrounding him. 

Now it's time to work on the 2019 retrospective. It won't be full of the writing life, that's for sure. But as always, those ancient words from Ecclesiastes 3 ring true. This year now ending was the season, and the time, it was supposed to be for me. I accept. 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

KC Kendricks

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