Sunday, April 8, 2007
Countdown
I decided to treat myself to a Panera savory and a latte this morning. I threw in an orange juice, too, just 'cause.
I found a table in the back corner near a table of three people who were engaged in a robust conversation. It wasn't hard to listen in - but what I heard, I'm not so sure I wanted to hear.
The young man at the table was quoting a study that had followed retirees and compared the age at retirement to how long they lived. He said, "For every year you work past age 56, you're trading two years of your life."
There may be some merit in that. My Dad essentially retired at 55-56. He recently turned 90 years of age.
The retirement wasn't planned. In fact, I think Dad's lack of work after they made the move to Oregon was a point of contention between my parents for a while. But an inheritance and wise investments ended up fueling a very nice retirement in the long run.
A poor example to set for the kids, though. I've been aiming for the same thing since I began the 8 to 5 in my youth. It doesn't look like I'm going to make it, heh, as of today, I have 20 days to keep the aging clock at bay, if that young man's information is correct.
I'll be winging to the Northwest coast in a few days to see my Dad. It will be bittersweet. My Dad recently underwent chemo-therapy for a cancer that's eating away at him, but it failed.
I'm trying to prepare myself. This will be a goodbye and I know Dad knows that. Our family is pragmatic about such things. It is what it is.
My family is it's own jumble of familial disfunction - close on some levels, not close on most. I forgave my parents years ago for not being perfect parents and I hope I was forgiven for not being the perfect child.
There will be sadness and difficulty in this next week, but it will be tempered by seeing my family together - my niece and her kids - and spending time with them.
Well. I didn't intend this to turn into a maudlin refelction of emotional angst... I better end this before the folks at the next table begin to wonder why that woman in the corner is shedding tears all over her lap-top!
Big breath. We go on.
I found a table in the back corner near a table of three people who were engaged in a robust conversation. It wasn't hard to listen in - but what I heard, I'm not so sure I wanted to hear.
The young man at the table was quoting a study that had followed retirees and compared the age at retirement to how long they lived. He said, "For every year you work past age 56, you're trading two years of your life."
There may be some merit in that. My Dad essentially retired at 55-56. He recently turned 90 years of age.
The retirement wasn't planned. In fact, I think Dad's lack of work after they made the move to Oregon was a point of contention between my parents for a while. But an inheritance and wise investments ended up fueling a very nice retirement in the long run.
A poor example to set for the kids, though. I've been aiming for the same thing since I began the 8 to 5 in my youth. It doesn't look like I'm going to make it, heh, as of today, I have 20 days to keep the aging clock at bay, if that young man's information is correct.
I'll be winging to the Northwest coast in a few days to see my Dad. It will be bittersweet. My Dad recently underwent chemo-therapy for a cancer that's eating away at him, but it failed.
I'm trying to prepare myself. This will be a goodbye and I know Dad knows that. Our family is pragmatic about such things. It is what it is.
My family is it's own jumble of familial disfunction - close on some levels, not close on most. I forgave my parents years ago for not being perfect parents and I hope I was forgiven for not being the perfect child.
There will be sadness and difficulty in this next week, but it will be tempered by seeing my family together - my niece and her kids - and spending time with them.
Well. I didn't intend this to turn into a maudlin refelction of emotional angst... I better end this before the folks at the next table begin to wonder why that woman in the corner is shedding tears all over her lap-top!
Big breath. We go on.
Labels: Life
Posted at 11:17 AM | |
