Most lives are filled with change: birth (duh!), infancy, childhood, the teen years, young adulthood, school, jobs, dating, marriage, raising children and so on. Others, not so much: separation, illness, death. Sorry.
Among the big changes is retirement. It's a word that means many things, depending on the individual. The involuntary image in my mind is that of a gray-haired kindly old man or woman, perhaps putzing around the house, or fishing or golfing, or playing with their grandchildren.
No image is fully satisfying, because retirement, for those lucky enough to experience it, is played out in countless ways, none the same as the other.
For me, it has many benefits: I get to continue doing something that I love, partly because I prepared for it before I retired, and I have an amazing amount of flexibility in my daily schedule. Sans the responsibility of children at home, I have vastly more control over my life. Free choice is good.
Some advantages are more personally and emotionally stirring than others, a bit quirky, even. One of my favorite things this time of year is the steady advance through spring toward summer. I let the dogs out this morning, and the weather, at a chill 28 degrees, was bracing. The layer of frost visibly blanketing much of the lawn was a delightful visual surprise, and I looked to see that the tulips had survived. Jury's still out on that.
One of my favorite things, oddly, is crossing the road to go to the mailbox. The brief walk fills me with anticipation, and a vibe that is superb and extraordinary.
When I think about friends vacationing in warmer climes, I have to admit I'm jealous of the vibrant sunlight, the sparkling water in the pool, the freedom from most cares, the umbrella drinks or ice-cold beer.
But I wouldn't trade my opportunity to walk to the mailbox each day, not for a week in the Caribbean. Hooray for retirement.
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