Nothing Lasts Forever

The past couple of years have been, well, let’s just say, challenging.
From antagonistic politics to the corona virus we have all had to make adjustments to our thinking. These are obstacles that we have had to navigate as a community. At least, most of us have tried to act like we are our sisters’ and brothers’ keepers.

Other changes have been more personal.

Two years ago I was looking forward to retirement. I spent nearly 50 years in the printing industry. The last 30 were at the same place. I had made the necessary arrangements with my financial advisor. My wife and I were preparing ourselves for the new stage of our relationship that was just 3 months away.

Then, in early February…cancer.

A routine colonoscopy revealed stage 1 cancer.
Immediately life changed. Instead of preparing for a happy transition into retirement turned into preparation for colon surgery. Those who have shared some of this journey with me know that the process did not go smoothly. What should have been a simple surgery turned into 4 surgeries and several months of unplanned-for shit. Literally.

Still, I had the end of my career to shine a bit of light on things. Even with an ostomy I could look forward to my last day of work. There was the pizza party with cake and cards and stuff that accompanied all retirements.

Then, enter Covid 19.

The last month of my time at work turned into isolation and working from home.
At that time I had not seen my coworkers for a bit over a month because of the surgeries. So, I spent the last week and half sitting in my home office monitoring things while the person who was taking my place got a baptism of fire.
April 1, yeah, April Fools’ Day, was my first day of retirement. March 31 should have been my final day at work with all the festivities of saying Good Bye and Good Luck. Instead, one day melded into the next. There was no mixed-feeling send off. I had no opportunity to really say good-bye to folks. Some of them I had worked beside for nearly 30 years. No pizza. No cake. No cards. No nothing.

Just gone.

So, why cry about that now?

Last month the owner of the company I worked for passed. He was a large person and a larger personality. Those of us who had the pleasure of working for him gathered for a final goodbye. I was happy to see so many of my old work friends. Some I hadn’t really seen since before my surgery.
Something was off, though. I felt myself firmly on the outside. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, the only thing that we really had in common was work. And, I was no longer working. It could have been all my imagination, too. Whatever, there was definitely a schism. And, I felt it.

It seems that while we share time and experiences with others there is a very real community. Our common goals cement us into a family-like organism. We consider one another sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers. All of those dynamics keep us coming back day after day. Then, one day, everything is changed. The family still exists. However, the one who leaves is no longer a member.
Oh, I know that some will disagree with this.
For those I can only way, “Wait. You’ll see.”

Just before Christmas I received that watch shown at the top of this post.
It’s the one I should have gotten on my last day. But, of course, that wasn’t possible. We were isolated, remember? So, apparently it sat, wrapped, in the desk of the HR manager. That is until we saw each other at a funeral and she remembered and decided to ship it to me.
(Still no pizza or cake)

So, now I guess it’s official.
I’m retired.

Gee. Wow. Yippee. Whatever.