Going.. going.. going.. GONE!

Today is the last day of my career as historian and archivist, work I have done for the last 33 years.   My career has largely been a solitary existence, working in windowless rooms somewhere in the lowest floors of a building.  While there were periods of time when I truly loved what I was doing, there have also been long stints when my heart just wasn’t in it.   It isn’t boredom or dissatisfaction with the work that I’m experiencing.  The work has been interesting and satisfying in hourly and sometimes even monthly stretches.  It’s more similar to the exasperation and sadness I felt as a child, sent to bed while my parents and older siblings talked and laughed and lived out the extra hours without me.  I would strain my ears to hear what they were saying, creeping silently to the top of the stairs to be near them, but not among them.  For that short time between the dinner table and sleep, I was not a full member of the family.  

As an adult, my daily rituals for many years were designed to navigate around college courses, school busses, scout meetings, church, and work.  They have become meaningless since the children have grown, largely designed around doctor appointments and train schedules.  For some lucky people work is fulfilling, colleagues are also friends, and there is laughter and camaraderie during the day.  There is no laughter during the day for me.  In fact, there is no conversation.  For the last two years I have been an employee with staff but no colleagues.  On work days I drink two cups of coffee in the morning morning while deleting spam emails and perusing the web. I eat a bowl of oats 10 minutes before I must leave to catch my train.  I work for 8 hours, waiting impatiently for the moment I can leave the office, then hurry to make my train.  Coming and going, commuting with masses of people each day helps me understand that I am part of the daily hum of life.  But when I can chat with strangers in the grocery line, when I can have long discussions with friends and family, when I am awake and present long enough to take walks holding my husband’s hand, or just soak in the tub with a book, this is when I have felt that I was truly among the living.  

Now, in the middle of all this transition to retired life a funny thing is happening.  People are reaching out to me and asking me to join them in book clubs, garden talks, bird walks, trips, sails, paddles down little creeks, weekday skis, weekend visits to the mountains or the shore.  We visit Hubby’s mum each summer, and when I asked him about plane reservations he said, “Let’s drive..  we can take the scenic route down the Blue Ridge Parkway.”  But here is the most wonderful event of all:  I am to become a grandmother!  How lucky I am to suddenly have the time to enjoy this new soul!  The only offer that I will not consider, at least for now, is the offer to teach history at a local college.  If this silly heart of mine will allow, I’m guessing I have 30 or 40 more years in this body.  Plenty of time to figure out what I want to do when I grow up.