So far my husband’s retirement has been a dream for both of us.
I have to pinch myself when I realize my husband will no longer be gone 13 hours a day anymore…leaving at 7 a.m. and returning at 7 p.m.
Decades of that routine can be wearing on a marriage. Thankfully, loving and liking carried us along the oft-times bumpy road striving to meld two lives into one.
It helped that we’ve always been best friends.
As best friends we began with much in common. With the passing of years we grew even closer…as expected when couples share their daily lives almost 24/7…by phone, email, or text message. And voice mail when nothing else works.
These days I don’t mind that hubby’s gone a few hours a week as a consultant with his former employer. I’m sure his ego is buoyed by the fact that he’s still needed and wanted. Nothing wrong with that. Everyone needs to feel valued. And not just by his spouse.
Anyway, it gives me a chance to blog. Something for which I feel valued apart from being a wife and mom.
Another wonderful by-product of retirement is being able to do whatever, whenever. There’s no end to the day.
Driving home from a day browsing through antique stores late Sunday afternoon, I thought we might stop for dinner and a movie. Almost midway through that thought I got a sprinkling of Sunday blues.
I use to get that all the time when I worked…the Sunday blues.
Sunday afternoons were a downer for me. Mondays meant another five days of work before I was again free to do whatever I pleased…for a whole day-and-a-half.
I hated Sunday afternoons.
Almost immediately, however, I remembered my husband no longer HAD to go to his office on Monday. Hallelujah!!!
Too tired from walking in and out of shops all day, I decided spending the evening at home with hubby would suit me just fine. He agreed.
A little hiccup in an otherwise smooth couple of weeks of retirement occurred last evening.
My husband was invited to join a friend and a few other neighborhood men, at a local wine bar for drinks and conversation. We agreed it would be nice to meet other retirees.
A couple of hours later when my husband returned home, I learned the three other men were far from retired. They were probably only in their 40s.
While it was fine getting to know them, my husband decided he had little in common with those young whipper snappers.
For starters, the men were planning a 15 mile run which they intended to complete in 2 hours. From the look on his face, I saw that my husband was probably picturing himself flat on his back not far from where they began their run.
Without skipping a beat, and with a hint of mischief in my voice, I said ” You should run with them. Just think, even if you pulled up the rear, you’d be doing great!
…yeah…not so much.