I have known L for years but visited her for the first time a few weeks ago. It was a short but memorable stay. Her place sits on hillside and is next to a state park. The view from the back porch is fantastic - you see mountain ranges on one side, a forest and lake on the other. She has numerous fruit trees in the yard and a magnificent Jacaranda in full bloom. We sat there taking in the scenery. The distant whooshing of cars was the only interruption to the sound of the many chirping birds. L gave me her binoculars so I could see them flitting in the trees. Every day could feel like a vacation sitting on L's porch. It is no surprise that they are both reluctant coffee badgers but are willing to do what it takes since the end is so close. They are willing to put with the pointless commute to earn their credits for the week.
She and her husband are a few years away from retirement and very much looking forward to it. There was a time when they both enjoyed what they did for a living. Despite busy jobs and having to raise four kids, they found time for hobbies that took a lot of time and effort. This was a couple that seemed to be able to get a lot out of their day and were inspiring to others. Over the many conversations during our stay, I was able to piece together how the tide turned. It is a story of death by a thousand cuts - small disappointments, things not working out quite as expected in many fronts and ennui from lack of meaningful change. Considered alone, none of the events are quite cataclysmic but they add up and create this desire to leave it all behind and never look back.
L reminded me of my father in the years leading up to his retirement. He was so ready and counting down the days - like a prisoner waiting for freedom. He stopped trying to bring about change in his life when in fact he was completely free of responsibility at the time and could make big, bold moves if he wanted to. Instead, like L, he chose to shrink the boundaries of his universe very drastically. It became his dream to go out to the market every morning to get fresh fish and vegetables for the day. He had no further plans for how he would spend his retirement years. For someone who worked a very complex job for thirty some years, traveled extensively and made decisions impacting many every day, this was the epitome of an uncomplicated life. My father is eighty now and continues to live his simple life as he had wanted. He has the satisfaction of doing it his way and he has built upon his desire to simplify by limiting his engagement with the world outside home.
J and I find it very difficult to communicate with him because there is nothing to talk about. This was not the person he always was. This is who he turned into by choosing to live the way he does. Part of me wanted to tell L that the retirement she was dreaming of could have unintended consequences. She already struggles to find common ground with her kids who are in their thirties. I chose to hold my peace fearing it was not my place to tell a woman close to retirement age how she should live the rest of her life. With my father back in the day, I felt I was within my rights and shared my concerns many times to no avail. His mind was completely made up and there was nothing to rethink or revisit.
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