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Donna Cronk's avatar

Since age 16, the only thing I "wanted to be" when I grew up was a newspaper reporter. I feel blessed to have enjoyed that career for four decades before retiring at the end of 2020 at 62.

I took myself by surprise. I had always plan to work until I was old, whatever that meant. I didn't think it meant at age 62.

My inspiration came from Betty, a reporter colleague and former Roxyette (the NYC dance troupe that became the Rockettes). Betty worked fulltime at our Indiana newspaper until she retired at age 78. Vibrant and still possessing the figure and fitness of an elite dancer, Betty only retired then, she told me, "while she was young enough to travel the world." She did just that, and passed at 100 after a brief illness.

So what was I doing retiring at 62? Still a pup in Betty years.

In August 2020 I announced plans to leave at year's end. Then I went about my business, trying to figure out how to return as a stringer! One foot in, one out, not convinced that I was making the right move, yet, another part of me said I must do this.

In November, my husband was tested for blood in the urine. In December, a few weeks before my last day working, he was formally diagnosed with bladder cancer. He would have a tough battle ahead, to include intensive chemo, and removal of his bladder and prostate.

I knew then that my purpose was clear: to care for him in every way possible. His first chemo was before Christmas, and that ramped up as the winter wore on, culminating with surgery in March, and months of recovery.

I believe that the timing of my unlikely retirement was more than intuition, that it was God's direction and perfect timing, that the table be set to help my beloved through his ordeal. I'll never be convinced otherwise.

I feel nothing but gratitude for this direction, and that I could be around to help my husband. I feel badly for those unable to make that choice due to finances or younger age, and who must care for loved ones balanced around a work schedule and additional obligations.

Since those bleak months, my husband is doing wonderful, and we've enjoyed each other and our marriage on a whole new level: through a lens of deep gratitude.

Annie McDonnell's avatar

Hey Sari,

I’m 58 and I’ve had many, many moments of intuition (and anxiety for that matter). One such moment was on April 14, 2014, when I was deep and helpless in my alcohol addiction and I just knew, with blazing clarity, that I was going to die. I could viscerally feel the knowingness with such certainty and such intensity that it literally took my breath away.

I didn’t recognise it then, but I did later. There was a wisdom somewhere between my bones that awakened that day, I believe eons of ancestral voices from my field weaving a magical force. And although faint and feeble I could hear the words clearly.

That moment of intuition just over 11 years ago, that pause to listen and those words changed the entire trajectory of my life.

Many thanks for your wonderful stories and profiles. Each is a drop that helps fill my cup.

Warmest,

Annie

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