After thirty six years working for one employer, today my husband left his job behind. He and the management staff came to an agreement that he could try out retirement by going on sabbatical for ninety days.
With government funding dwindling, there wasn’t enough money to keep both he and his helper on staff. Since my husband has been toying with the idea of retirement for some time, this sounded like a workable solution. If being unemployed doesn’t suit him, he can return. Theoretically.
Neither of us know what to expect. After all, we’ve had our routines locked into place forever. We’re both surprised that we’ve arrived at this life event so soon, even though we’ve prepared for the change for awhile. Insurance is in place, savings are stashed, and the honey-do list is long enough to keep us from stumbling over each other anytime soon. My husband will have more time, more variety, and, more wife. Not sure how I feel about that. Neither is he.
“To everything there is a season,” Ecclesiastes 3:1 tells us, “A time for everything under heaven.” We’re born, we die. We plant, and we take up what is planted. We weep and we laugh, we mourn and we rejoice with those who rejoice.
I’m excited about the possibilities. If we want to run to the coast in the middle of the week, we can. If we need to modify our rising and sleeping schedule, the flexibility to do so is ours. Even though I know adjusting to these changes probably won’t play out this way, I look at this new adventure as a never-ending vacation. My husband suggested a different word here. I’ll let you guess what it is. If you know him, you’re laughing.
But for now, my husband has retired.