Still Here | Kathy’s Retirement Blog

I know some of you have been wondering where I am.  Thank you for the caring messages.  To answer your questions, I’m fine yet also wondering where I am.  

On the first day of spring I began moving into my new house, my car to near overflowing with boxes, excitement fluttering like a dancing butterfly around my heart.  The fact that spring is a time of renewal, re-birth, new beginnings did not escape my thoughts.  The earth and I were both beginning a re-birth.  Despite the excitement I also felt a tinge of melancholy.  Two and a half years ago I made a gambit when I bought the two acres I was about to call home.  Now, my gambit was about to pay off.  But, without the vestiges of a twosome.  I was now truly entering a new life phase.

As I unpacked boxes, which were housed for the last year, unopened, in the second bedroom of my apartment, I found myself overwhelmed with the enormity of sorting out my life.  My family helped move boxes to the house.  No one on earth could help me with figuring out my future.  The movers arrived at the apartment on March 25 to move my furniture.  By the afternoon of the 26th I was in full meltdown mode as I opened the first of many boxes holding Martin’s art.  I was not ready for the rush of emotions, the sense of loss, the feelings of aloneness, thoughts of my world shrinking further and crushing grief.  My face red and puffy I called Rachel and asked her to stop by on her way home from work.  I was still a tearful pile of mush when she arrived three hours later.

On that first day going through what he created I couldn’t stop the flow of tears.  Other days it was like opening Christmas decorations and finding treasures you forgot you had.  I marveled at his pencil drawing of his right hand, which led to another tearful afternoon. The drawing reminded me of how he was left handed so, of course, it would be his right that he laid on a piece of paper and drew.  With each box of art I saw his unique talent.  Long forgotten or buried memories flooded my consciousness.  I spouted unendingly. 

As April wore on I worked in earnest placing precious keepsakes on the many shelves only to move them thirty minutes later as I unwrapped something more fitting for the chosen spot.  The counters and table tops became a refuge for my indecision as I unboxed things I didn’t remember I had.  Due to my forgetfulness, there was no forethought on where they might go.  I’ll give you a peek at my kitchen as it’s still the only room not overflowing with stuff.  Stuff!  Stuff!  And, more stuff!  For the third time in less than five years I’m decluttering as I ask myself, “What did I keep this for?”  Or, “if I didn’t need it during the past year, do I really need it?”  Over the course of the next couple of months I made five trips to Goodwill.  Mid-June I began to feel like the house was coming together.  Still there are pictures to be hung and things to go.

Despite all this I love, love, love my house.  My gambit paid off.  I have a place that is truly my own.  Consequently, I feel grateful to be unpacking and decluttering and even grieving again as I, at the same time, rejoice in my new beginning.  But, my beginning of what?  What is my purpose now?

Through all the planning, packing, selling of my former house, moving into an apartment, then moving again to my new house, I didn’t have time or perhaps didn’t wish to take the time to think about meaning and purpose in my life.  Caring for Martin gave me meaning and purpose.  Never during all those years of caregiving did I ever look at it that way.  When he died, I filled the void with the actions mentioned above along with my trip to Italy.  Despite the busyness of settling into the house and starting the landscaping I find myself at loose ends.  A quandary.  I feel like I did when I first retired.  At that time starting this blog helped me gain meaning and purpose in my life.  Now, I contemplate giving it up.  I’m not even sure what to write about anymore.  

Sometime during the past year I began following The Blue Zones lifestyle.  I’d already been doing some things, such as altering my eating habits, taking up yoga as a form of exercise, meditation instead of medication to lower my blood pressure, spending more time on self-awareness and making friends in my soon-to-be new community.  While immersing myself in The Blue Zones, including watching the documentary on Netflix, I learned about the Japanese secret to a joyful life – ikigai (https://www.japan.go.jp/kizuna/_userdata/pdf/2022/spring2022/ikigai_japanese_secret_to_a_joyful_life.pdf).  Ikigai has four components, which converge to create your joyful life where you feel valued: (1) what you love (your passion), (2) what the world needs (your mission), (3) what you are good at (your vocation), and (4) what you can get paid for (your profession).  

As a retiree I’m not looking for a profession.  I had one of those and have no desire to go back to it or conjure up a new one.  There are many things I’m good at.  Gardening has always been a passion of mine and I’m good at doing it.  So is advocacy, which is what made me such a good advocate for Martin.  I’m easing my way back into creating my own art.  Over the past nearly two years I’ve become involved with my community, yoga, book club, gardening club and recently, Ladies of the Lake, a group of women who raise scholarship money for girls from our school district going into the medical field.  I’ve made friends.  And, last, but not least I have my family.  

I know I enjoyed my trip to Italy.  I also know I’m not interested in doing a lot of traveling.  The operative word is traveling.  I went first class to Italy, was momentarily away from the crowds as I laid over in private airport lounges and still did not enjoy the getting there part.  To all the retirees who enjoy travel, I say follow your heart.  Have fun!  Same with golf, volunteer work or RV-ing.

In the meantime, I’m fine and still here.  And, I’ll try to keep you posted.

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