On a guilt trip called retirement
Monday, March 23rd, 2009On a guilt trip called retirement
‘What do you do with all your time?’ they ask. It took a while to feel good about not working
BRUCE BARNETT
As published in the Globe and Mail – March 23, 2009
At 65, I entered the unknown world of retirement with trepidation.
I had concerns about finances, even though I was retiring with a fairly good pension and we were mortgage free.
I was also more than a little concerned about being unemployed. Since I began working at 15, I had been out of work just a few months in those 50 long years, which in retrospect seemed to fly by.
For five decades I had been a contributor to society in many places of employment on many career paths. After two years of odd jobs, I began a five-year stint with the Royal Canadian Navy as an able seaman/radar plotter, sailing on three destroyers including Canada’s most famous warship, HMCS Haida.
In my last position, I worked for 27 years with the city’s public library department as a senior manager responsible for construction and building operations.
Now, here I was on the dole, so to speak. I was a taker, not a contributor, and I didn’t feel all that good about it.
I never thought about retirement until I arrived at my 60th birthday and saw light at the end of the tunnel. Once I started thinking about it, I became a bit obsessed. I thought of doing all those things I had never had time for while I was working – Caribbean vacations, cruises, wintering in the southern states.
I am now 67 and have been retired almost two years. In that time, my wife and I have enjoyed three Caribbean vacations and a Mediterranean cruise, and we are preparing for a trip to Florida in early April. I also went golfing with friends in Myrtle Beach.
I should have been overjoyed at my great fortune – my wife and I have survived to this age in good health, with enough finances to live some of our dreams – and I would have been, if it weren’t for a wretched feeling of guilt.
I wasn’t prepared for the guilt that hit me out of nowhere upon receipt of my first pension cheque. I didn’t acquire this feeling by myself – a great number of people have contributed to my low self-esteem.
Once I retired, many people asked me what I intended to do now that I had left my place of employment. I informed these inquisitors that I was enjoying my retirement and my plan was to continue to do so. The next question was invariably, “What do you do with all your time?” They would follow that up with, “I’d be bored stiff if I didn’t work.”
Some people ask me if I am doing any consulting, or if I am working part-time at something outside my area of expertise. When I respond that I don’t work at anything full-time, part-time or any time, my comments are usually met with a scowling face and the comment, “I don’t know how you do it.”
I try to explain that I do it very well. I am quite good at retirement, in fact. I have a social life with many lunches and dinners out. I play a lot of golf in the summertime and vacation in warmer climates in the winter. I now have time to spend with my four grandchildren when I choose to (although my children would say I don’t do enough of that). I read, visit places of culture and do a little writing now and then. Frankly, I don’t have enough time for a job.
My interrogators meet this explanation with something akin to, “Well, I do all that and still work.”
Five days a week at 7:30 a.m., I attend a fitness club for a workout with cardio machines and free weights, and some socializing. Most members are there to work out before heading off to their places of employment. When I see people older than me donning their business attire, preparing to head out into the world of commerce, my guilt is magnified.
One day I was talking to a fellow member whom I had just met. He asked me if I was retired and I said I was. He appeared to be somewhat older than me so I asked if he was retired.
He surprised me by saying, “No, but I promised my wife that I would quit working after 19 more years.”
“Nineteen years?” I asked.
“I’m 81 now,” he said.
I muttered something congratulatory and skulked away.
It took a while for my feelings to change. I have learned to appreciate my fortunate lot in life and enjoy my retirement guilt-free. I was lucky to have been employed for 50 years, and to work any longer would be unfair to those who are now seeking employment.
I think I would feel much guiltier working in a position that could go to a younger person raising a family. I reason that my actions are even somewhat altruistic.
So to all my interrogators of substantial means who are of retirement age and still employed, I say, “I don’t know how you do it.”