"I pray — for word is out
And prayer comes round again —
That I may seem, though I die old,
A foolish, passionate man."

- W.B. Yeats in "A Prayer For Old Age" from "A Full Moon in March" 1935

My last day before retirement was one year ago this past Saturday.  It’s been a wonderful first year of retirement for me, filled with chances to relax, laugh, work, and learn.  Best of all has been the opportunity to spend more time with my loved ones.  In fact, I’m off on a road trip with my lovely wife and our two fine sons right now, so I wrote these words last week.  We are traveling through California, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, and Montana so that we can spend time as a family in Yellowstone to celebrate our younger son John’s graduation from college.  We are so proud of him, and so very grateful that, when we asked him what he wanted most as a gift to recognize this great accomplishment, he said he’d like us to take this road trip together.  He has grown to be a strong and thoughtful man, and I’m curious and excited to see what life has in store for him next.

As we watched John complete the work of his undergraduate years, I began this next adventure in my life.  In some ways, it feels as though I simply happened to graduate a little less than one year before he did.  Each of us in our own way is charting his course into an unknown future.  I’ve learned a lot in the past year, especially about how precious time is, and I have learned the most from those who are closest to me.  I’ve begun to see myself a bit more clearly through John’s eyes, and there have been some surprises.  We are alike in many ways, and a mystery to one another in others, I think.  He can hold me accountable to be my best self with an inescapable honesty, and he sometimes leaves me nearly speechless with flashes of breathtaking kindness.  I know that I will have much to learn from him as we both grow through the years ahead.

I have learned about patience and quiet from our older son, CJ.  He often prefers to be quiet.  When he is excited to share his thoughts and feelings, I am eager to listen to what he has to say, and this is helping me learn more about listening to all of my loved ones with that kind of eagerness.  He deals with a disability with grace and patience, and has been so happy and excited to begin a new job recently.  He helps me remember to be more patient, especially with the hard work of being patient with myself.  He also reminds me to do one of my favorite things by remembering to look for the beauty that surrounds us.  CJ is masterful in his ability to see the tiniest details of nature, and to gently call them to our attention.  The night we came home from John’s graduation, he took me out the front door to look at the moon.  His joy at these moments can draw us in, and sweep us up in wonder.

I have learned so much in all the precious years of friendship and love that I have shared with my beloved Sue.  Lately, she has been teaching me more about courage, strength, and love.  Encountering a challenge recently, she has chosen to overcome it by courageously making changes that reflect her lifelong passion for self-reliance.  She’s often joked that she could be the poster-child for “I can do it myself”, and it has been inspiring to watch they way she’s chosen to take the steps that have helped her grow stronger.  It fills me with joy to watch her strength and courage rewarded with an ever-increasing energy and enjoyment of life.  Her creative fire, and warm love, shine more brightly than ever, and she inspires me every day.

I have learned from dear friends, from family, and from my colleagues. Friends have taught me in this year about being gentle with myself, and more able to accept love as unconditionally as I strive to give it.  They have called me to keep learning in retirement how to balance my thoughtful, introspective, side with my growing ability to relax and have fun.  I have learned from family even more about the simple joy of giving to one another, and from the littlest of our loved ones so much more about love. Oh, how my heart sings when their faces light to see me!

I have learned more from my colleagues, especially in these past few months of returning to work part time, about working together and about embracing change.  Especially sweet has been learning more about the deep satisfaction of watching others with whom I’ve shared this work grow and blossom to carry it on, each in their own special way.  I am grateful for the opportunity the university is giving me to continue contributing, and especially grateful that I get to work with the fine people here who are so dedicated to our students and their success.  Knowing that I will only be doing this for a limited time is helping me appreciate this passage from career to retirement even more, and to learn a lesson my dear friend wished for me when he said he hoped I would enjoy this new role at work, and learn just how much I enjoy being retired full-time!

Most of what I write, think, and feel brings home to me how very fortunate I am to share this wonderful life with my loved ones, and I am grateful.  I share some of what I’m learning, and many of the moments and memories that bring me joy here, on Facebook, and in letters and visits shared with my loved ones.  Of course, as wonderful as my life is, and as grateful as I am for all my blessings, no life is perfect.  A year into retirement, I see Facebook as my highlights reel, and remind myself that many of us share only our brightest, happiest moments there.  Even in my more personal letters and conversations, I tend to emphasize the positive.

Working or retired, many of life’s challenges remain about the same.  I still battle depression at times, and I am conscious of my flaws.  Some of the hardest times are when I fail my loved ones in some way.  Even when I have the very best intentions, sometimes I get things wrong and end up hurting when I meant to help.  I can be pretty hard on myself when this happens, and that isn’t helpful either.  I’m reminded of the half-joking remark I’ve often made that I’d hate to have my epitaph read, “He meant well…”.   I will always seek to improve myself, and there’s plenty of room for improvement.  Getting back on my feet, learning from my mistakes, returning to doing what is right with love even after failing temporarily in that mission, and back to feeling grateful is very helpful.

As I sit and write today, I find myself missing my mother more than I have in a long while.  She taught me so much about being myself, and just now she is teaching me about loneliness.  I am so very blessed by the love and closeness of my beloved partner, our sons, and the family and friends who help to fill our lives with joy.  Still, all of us deal with loss and loneliness in our lives.  With the absence of those who have gone on before us, and our distance from loved ones far away.  I feel my mother near today, helping me to strengthen my faith that those distances in time and space are not so great as I imagine.  Helping me to learn again that we are all one in love.

As I walked under the stars above our home here recently, with just a few wisps of cloud beginning to slide across the sky in front of coming storms, I found myself thinking about the light still shining from stars that have died.  The light from some, in galaxies visible with the naked eye, will still be shining for us millions of years after they are gone, leaving stardust behind to make new stars, and everything else that we know.  The hummingbirds and flowers in our gardens, and each of us, with all our human thoughts and feelings, are made from stardust.  

Even when a star has gone, its light shines on forever out across the universe.  Never slowing.  Never dimming.  I found myself thinking of the love of our loved ones who have gone on, perhaps to shine with the stars.  Just like the starlight, their love goes on shining within and around us forever.  Touching our lives with light, warmth, and wonder, and leaving us with questions unanswered until we join them one day to shine on for the ones that we love. Sometimes, the quiet under the stars makes it easier to hear what is in my heart.

Most of my days in this first year of retirement have been wonderful and fill my heart with music and joy.  Some even seem to me as though they are several lovely days, and I can remember days like this during vacations that made those shining times seem to last even longer.  I remember a day like that recently when just the morning I spent down by the lake with Sue gave me all I could hope for, and we came home laughing and smiling.  Happy for our time together. Then there was the day I spent after lunch working up the hill at our home clearing brush and splitting wood, feeling very content to be doing my chores surrounded by the flowers.

There was the day I spent late that afternoon swimming in the lake with the golden sunlight shining down through the green leaves onto the sparkling surface and into the depths below.  A day when I sat in the cool water out on the point filled with the glory and beauty of nature around me, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude.  That day was so peaceful and left me filled with joy, refreshed and ready to go home to see my family.  Finally, there was the day I enjoyed the comfort of being home with them, relaxing as night fell, the wonder of the vast universe of stars spread out overhead as I walked the dogs, and then lay in bed remembering all those wonderful days I’d lived between one sunrise and another.

This life I am living in retirement is so rich and full.  So filled with light and love, and touched with enough darkness and struggle to make the light shine brighter, and the warmth of love more welcome as it chases away the chill.  I still have much growing to do, and so much to learn.  I hope to have many years of growing and learning ahead.  Most of all, I welcome the opportunity to go on giving and sharing.  To continue loving.

My thanks to Carl Johnsen for the photo at the beginning of today’s essay.