Month: June 2026

Retirement Blues

So many of our friends and contemporaries are now contemplating retirement and what that will look like. It comes up as a topic of discussion more than it ever has before. When we talk about it with each other, it is always with excitement and anticipation, and with relatively high expectations of smooth sailing, so I was surprised to read an article the other day that suggested that retirement statistically is a time when people report higher levels of depression than any other times in their lives. Supposedly, the highest chance of developing depression during retirement happens right when you first retire, and then another statistically high incidence of depression in retirement tends to occur after the 1-3 year honeymoon period of retirement is over.

The article cited the best ways to overcome these lost, lonely, sad feelings. First, it is important to still create some sort of reliable structure of your days. Next, keep regular (not sporadic) human contact, such as attending weekly club meetings or luncheons. Also, it is important to find some sort of broadly defined sense of purpose (some people help take care of their grandchildren and/or find an area of volunteering that marries their interests and expertise) and finally, be honest and open about your feelings and struggles about the changes retirement has brought to your life with trusted others. (The article stated that this seems to be particularly hard for a lot of men to do, but it is painful and sometimes even dangerous to struggle alone.) People tend to feel shock, shame and embarrassment when they experience depression in a time that they thought would be one of the happiest times of their lives. It helps to talk it out and realize you are not alone in your feelings.

As my regular readers know, I use Adulting – Second Half as a depository of thoughts, reflections and helpful information (mostly for myself, but it makes me happy that others also find it to be a helpful resource). Since my main job in my adult life was to run our household and to raise our four children, as we take our only daughter, and our youngest child and last to leave the nest, to her new home state next week, it occurred to me that I have finally reached my full retirement. I’ve been “easing” into retirement since our daughter left for college four years ago, but my retirement truly and fully starts for me, next month. As I am swirling in mixed emotions right now, I believe that I have my expectations in place. As it is often said about so many things these days, “It’s a process . . . .”

“Retirement is not the end of the road. It is the beginning of the open highway.” – Unknown

“Don’t simply retire from something; have something to retire to.” – Henry Emerson Fosdick

“The trouble with retirement is that you never get a day off.” – Abe Lemons

“There’s never enough time to do all the nothing you want.” – Bill Watterson

“Don’t act your age in retirement. Act like the inner young person you always have been.” – J. A. West

“My retirement plan is to get thrown into a minimum security prison in Hawaii.” – Julius Sharpe

“Retirement is wonderful. It’s doing nothing without worrying about getting caught.” – Gene Perret

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” – Seneca

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

First Time

Yesterday I read a delightful article that I had trepidations about reading at first. The article was about foreigners visiting the USA for the first time in order to experience the World Cup. It was a collection of social media posts about what their thoughts were about America, now seeing it for the first time. And although I didn’t know what the slant of the article would be at first, thankfully, this was a kind and thoughtful collection of posts. These first-time foreign visitors were thrilled with visiting all-American places like Taco Bell and Wal-Mart and Waffle House. (this reminded my daughter and I about when we were on a flight home from Europe one time, hearing two young European women talking excitedly about trying pancakes for the first time, immediately when they landed in the USA) Some of the posts were about how green and wide-open the visitors found America to be. One German man stated that the forests seemed to go on and on and on. The article’s point was about what a joy it is to get to experience these “first-timers” experiences along with them. It brought some magic back to our ordinary, everyday All-American things. Seeing others delight in what we often take for granted, is perfect timing, with our country’s 250th birthday right around the corner.

There is something so special about experiencing anything for the first time. This is why I am often wary of experiencing the same places or things more than once. The “next time” just never seems to hold the same excitement and awe as the first. You have to adjust your expectations to understand that familiar places, and things, and experiences will often not live up to the hype of your memories when you go to experience them again. However, the best remedy to this, is to bring someone with you, who’s never seen or experienced what you already have, and then delight in their own delight. When you get to look at what has become known or ordinary to you through the fresh eyes of someone else, the vicarious thrill and pride and remembrance is a feeling which is almost as good as any wonderful first-time experience. Their appreciation becomes a renewed appreciation in yourself. In this way, you sharing a special place or experience with a newcomer, becomes a gift to yourself, as well. No wonder why our kindergarten teachers knew that sharing was the most important lesson to impart to us, because sharing is a loving gift that lasts a lifetime for both the recipient and the sharer.

It is also true that excitement begets excitement. When I go somewhere that I have never been, I get giddy, like a kid in a candy store. And I can feel the locals attracted to my happiness and so they often go out of their way to make my experience as amazing as it can be. They have a renewed sense of honor and confidence about what they are offering in their corner of the world. It is my gift to them, to help them to feel this way again about “their stuff and their turf”, and it is their gift to me, to share the best that they have to offer.

It’s so easy to attack and look for the faults in anything. When I look at the list that some of the people visiting were excited about: Wal-Mart, Taco Bell, Waffle House – I can feel a sneer forming on my lips. But it’s not about the places. It’s about experiencing something new like you’ve never seen. It’s interesting to experience almost anything novel, even if you decide it’s not anything you would ever want to experience again.

I hope that we all offer the best that we have to our World Cup visitors. And I hope that they look for the best in us. It is a truth in life that you often see what you look for, and when you look at things with curiosity and enthusiasm and optimism, what you see and what you get, add up to amazing memories that last a lifetime, like the first time a delicious, steaming stack of pancakes was headed your way. And the only real way to experience that feeling again, is to watch someone happily dig into the first pile of pancakes which they have ever tried.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Gaping

Our only daughter, our youngest of four kids, and the last to leave the nest, takes off in about a couple of weeks, for a fabulous new job opportunity, in a state that is a two-day drive from us, in a whole different time-zone. Lately, my sweet friends and relations have been sending me texts, kindly asking me how I’m doing and how I’m feeling. My pat answer has been, “Doing well, just trying to soak her all in. Smiley emoji. Thumbs up emoji.” Perhaps I should go with the more truthful, modern answer, “I don’t know. It’s complicated.” But, I won’t. I don’t want anyone to try to poke at my carefully created shield. I’m still in “mother-mode.” I’ve got to be my daughter’s cool, calm, collected safety net. I’ve got to be that reassuring presence that tells her (and tells me) that everything is going to be okay. And it will be. I know this from the bottom of my heart, but still . . . How am I feeling about all of this?

I don’t know. It’s complicated. It’s a complicated mash of every feeling under the sun that I’m still trying to keep under the lid of my shield – a shield that protects others from a violent storm of emotion that would only inevitably be followed by that way too uncomfortable cloud of discomfort and cringe which just hangs in the air after any kind of explosion of passionate feelings, and also a shield that protects me from an intensity of feelings that I’m not ready to feel yet. I have so many feelings flying around, under the radar of my carefully crafted shield, that I have even witnessed myself having strong feelings about those feelings, all swirling around, all at the same time. And right along with this massive, swirling cone of conflicting emotions, I have an internal high and mighty judge and jury telling me which of these feelings are “correct” for me to have, and which of these feelings are “wrong” and “shameful.” Honestly, a statement that has always been hard for me to grapple with is “Both things can be true at the same time.” This is a hard concept for me. I like cut and dry. I like logic. I like “truth.” I get annoyed when people use the term “that’s my truth” too much. It seems like a cop-out to me. I like to believe that there are actually a fair amount of factual truths that just can’t be denied. And yet, when it comes to feelings, I’m having to come to terms with the idea that “eight million things can be true at the same time.” And that is the truth. And that’s okay.

How am I feeling about all of this – my youngest now really and truly embarking on her adulthood and moving far away from me, bookended by two of her brothers’ weddings, all in the span of a few short months?

Overwhelmed. Happy. Sad. Nostalgic. Relieved. Excited for them. Excited for me. Excited for my husband. Worried for them. Worried for me. Worried for my husband. Tired. Proud. Impressed with myself. Disappointed in myself. Hopeful. Out of sorts. Organized. Disorganized. Astounded. Needy. Ecstatic. Protective. Patient. Impatient. Grateful. Scared. Small. Big. Guilty. Enough. Not Enough. Supportive. Not wanting to be supportive. Listless. Astounded. Scattered. Lost. Found. Misdirected. Accomplished. Agitated. Confused. Insecure. Exhausted. Lonely. Craving solitude. Reflective. Empathetic. Energized. Fearful. Confident. Faithful. Old. Newly young. Free. Righteous. Curious. Doubtful. Even sometimes angry, and maybe even a little envious of all the new experiences that my children all have ahead of them. Open. Assured. Defensive. Questioning. But mostly, I feel gaping. I feel totally gaping with Love and Vulnerability. Gaping. Yep, I feel absolutely gaping wide.

How am I feeling about all of this change in my life? (shield goes up)

Thank you for asking. I’m good. I’m just trying to soak my daughter all up before she leaves. Smiley emoji. Thumbs up emoji.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Memories

I got caught in a rabbit hole the other day when I was busy researching a movie I know that I will never choose to see. The movie is the new horror phenom called Backrooms, produced by a young man in his early twenties. I have not seen a true horror film in over a decade (I don’t mind thrillers, but pure horror films are not good for my psyche, nor for anyone who has to be around me (for weeks and weeks and weeks) after I have viewed one) What intrigued me the most during my exploration of my crazy little, pointless rabbit hole, was a comment made by someone underneath the movie trailer. The comment was this:

“They say when you remember something you aren’t recalling the original event, you’re just recalling the last time you remembered it. So it’s always going to be a little different every time.”

I don’t know if this statement is true or not. My husband detests when I start any conversation with “They say . . .” He is one who quickly asks, “Who’s “they”?” However, I have a hunch that the above statement does have a lot of truth to it. My youngest son was recently on a jury, and he stated that the most muddling part in the jury’s deliberations, was just how much the recollection of the details of the story of the event, had changed over the years.

Wouldn’t your current emotional state of being and your current state of affairs have a large effect on how you perceive not only what is happening now (and what you hope to have happen in the future), but also have a large effect on any memories which you currently bring to the forefront of your mind? When I am remembering past happenings, it always strikes me as unusual as to what actually has stuck out for me in any particular memory. Sometimes seemingly meaningless objects or statements are what sticks in my memory bank, the most. I’ve noticed as I’ve aged that my short term memory (which has never been my strong point to begin with) seems to worsen, yet I often surprise myself with what my long term memory is able to recall.

“They say” (ha!) when you’re focused on your past, you tend to live either in regret or in fantasy of a romanticized past, and when you are focused on the future, you are swarming yourself in anxiety. In today’s fast-paced, technologically focused world, mental health practitioners continually preach the power of staying present. We all know the wisdom of presence, but practicing it regularly, for some reason, is not an easy task for most of us. Maybe we don’t love our peaceful states of being, as much as we pretend that we do. Maybe being “peaceful” bores us. Perhaps we like to embellish our memories or freak out about our futures, because we like the the thrill of intense emotion more than we like to admit. Maybe being the narrator of our stories makes us feel like we have more control of ourselves and our lives than we really do? I don’t really know. I bet “they” know . . . . .

“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.” – Cesare Pavese

“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us.” – Oscar Wilde

“What am I? … The sum of my past experiences, tied up together in a bundle with the string we call memory.” – H. G. Wells

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.