This morning on the radio they were interviewing a local semi-celebrity who is retiring this week after 23 years or something at his job. It got me thinking about retirement today, and kind of feeling sorry for myself.
Usually, when people retire it's because they planned it. They know they have the money to do it, they have other plans, it's time. And it's a joyous, though scary, occasion. I know there are a fair number of people who find that it isn't really what they thought it would be, or what they wanted, once they have made the leap (that's the scary part). And some find they really DON'T have the money to do it (even scarier). At the time, though, there are lot of congratulations passed around, and people are envious of the retiree's coming freedom from working. It's a different deal at my work now.
In past years, like when my mom retired, there was a "party" at break time, where the honoree's family was invited, and there were little gifts, collections taken up, a cake and a plaque, a guestbook that everyone signed, pictures taken. I'll never have that. My retirement, while just as final and scary, is missing the joy and the envy. We are all leaving, whether it's for retirement or the unemployment line. Is it petty of me to feel cheated by not getting to be congratulated, not getting even the stupid little party that they had before? I never meant to retire at 54, maybe not even at 55. In some ways I feel like I don't deserve to not have to work, you know? But I would have liked a chance to look forward to that day instead of being sad. But hey, I hear that we still get our cakes.
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