88! My father died at 87, a painter, in his hospital bed in a Park Slope living room still talking about getting up and back into his studio with big plans for his latest canvas … My mother used to say that the best reason for being an artist if you never have to retire.
I am (about to be) 84 and still teaching at the University in my city, so I really related to this article. I won't quit until .....(I am having trouble writing this sentence). Nowdays, It gives me a sense of family (I have very little of my own, am widowed, no kids etc etc) and I too find I must keep up to date Every Single Year with what is new in my topic. It keeps my brain working. When my body or brain start to falter, perhaps I will quit, but "retirement" is a word I have never embraced, as it seems to imply "pulling away", opting out of engagement, so to speak. Hopefully I can stay happy , whether still teaching or not teaching - that is the goal.
What a blessing to live the life you were meant to live and know it!
Retirement is a silly concept that is being reinvented these days.
It really makes no sense (to me) to possibly live 30 years post career and just stop growing or learning on the day you retire.
When I retired from teaching after 40 years I built a small business. People would always say, “It must be nice to be retired,” even though I was still working full time doing something else. People are just obsessed with the idea of being done I think. That is the wrong goal.
Eventually I sold that business and have since founded 2 non-profits designed to solve problems I see in my community.
I also bike, hike, ski and play with my grandkids.
To me retirement just means your schedule is now yours to do whatever work/hobby interests you. And I have a full basket of things that interest me. Way more things in there that I want to accomplish, than I have time left, and that is pleasing to know.
What a wonderful, thoughtful essay. The takeaway for me is that what is right for one generation may not be right for the next. The times are radically changing work and the reasons for retirement as much as they're changing so much else. The circumstances driving the son's decision are vastly different from those of his father (although, as the conversation draws out, the father had to make some adaptation to changing times, too). Reaching for a commonality that can bridge the differences and drive his son's decision, the father settles on "what makes you happy." Perhaps. What's most important, I think, is that we listen and stretch ourselves to support our children in their dilemmas, accepting that our own life experience does not prepare us to judge.
What an inspiration! “Recognition isn’t as important as being happy,” he said finally. So wise. Love Paul Westerberg too. Glad to know he’s still at it even if he’s keeping it to himself.
Lovely. My dad died at 57 of a brain tumor, about 4 years after he got sober. Those 4 years were gold. He worked as a tax lawyer until his final year, but throughout his life, he was also an enthusiastic professional amateur: painting, learning languages, playing jazz (badly). Your piece reminded 65-year-old me to treasure the conversations and times I *did* have with my father because you never know.
My mom died last year at 87, never having retired. Except she died with a thousand regrets of not traveling or enjoying her life. I decided I wouldn’t live that way. I want to enjoy the rest of my life. I hope your Dad has many more years of happiness ahead of him. Loved this piece.
And this is why Paul McCartney will never stop touring and why he brought the house down at Glastonbury at 80. Because when your work is who you are in your DNA, it's a lifeforce, not a burden. Never let anyone push you out of your passion.
Somehow you just know when it's time. And that is different for everyone. But it's only the right time when its right for YOU and no one else. And what is next is important. I have friends retried who are lost in their retirement, not sure how to find new footing. I see retirement (or whatever you want to call it these days because it's certainly not the 'retirement' of 25 years ago, and thank God!) as an opportunity. But that's different for everyone. Find what you love, jump in, swim around, let the waters envelope you.
This is why I'm an Oldster subscriber. You say your dad crushed it as an adjunct? You crushed it as an essayist. Oh, the talent on display here. Yours and Sari's. Thank you both, with hugs.
Thank you for this. Very uplifting. Love this quote: “Recognition isn’t as important as being happy,” he said finally. “What makes you happy? That’s the most important question.”
Beautiful essay. My take away echos Annie Dillard''s quote, "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives." The important thing to remember is we get to decide. Retire? Don't retire. It's all up to you.
I fall in the middle, between your age and your dad's. My kids are slipping into their 50s, and I think we are all so lucky in that we're doing what we want to even when it's hard. It makes getting up in the morning not only hopeful but joyous. Thanks for sharing this.
88! My father died at 87, a painter, in his hospital bed in a Park Slope living room still talking about getting up and back into his studio with big plans for his latest canvas … My mother used to say that the best reason for being an artist if you never have to retire.
I am (about to be) 84 and still teaching at the University in my city, so I really related to this article. I won't quit until .....(I am having trouble writing this sentence). Nowdays, It gives me a sense of family (I have very little of my own, am widowed, no kids etc etc) and I too find I must keep up to date Every Single Year with what is new in my topic. It keeps my brain working. When my body or brain start to falter, perhaps I will quit, but "retirement" is a word I have never embraced, as it seems to imply "pulling away", opting out of engagement, so to speak. Hopefully I can stay happy , whether still teaching or not teaching - that is the goal.
What a blessing to live the life you were meant to live and know it!
Retirement is a silly concept that is being reinvented these days.
It really makes no sense (to me) to possibly live 30 years post career and just stop growing or learning on the day you retire.
When I retired from teaching after 40 years I built a small business. People would always say, “It must be nice to be retired,” even though I was still working full time doing something else. People are just obsessed with the idea of being done I think. That is the wrong goal.
Eventually I sold that business and have since founded 2 non-profits designed to solve problems I see in my community.
I also bike, hike, ski and play with my grandkids.
To me retirement just means your schedule is now yours to do whatever work/hobby interests you. And I have a full basket of things that interest me. Way more things in there that I want to accomplish, than I have time left, and that is pleasing to know.
What a wonderful, thoughtful essay. The takeaway for me is that what is right for one generation may not be right for the next. The times are radically changing work and the reasons for retirement as much as they're changing so much else. The circumstances driving the son's decision are vastly different from those of his father (although, as the conversation draws out, the father had to make some adaptation to changing times, too). Reaching for a commonality that can bridge the differences and drive his son's decision, the father settles on "what makes you happy." Perhaps. What's most important, I think, is that we listen and stretch ourselves to support our children in their dilemmas, accepting that our own life experience does not prepare us to judge.
What an inspiration! “Recognition isn’t as important as being happy,” he said finally. So wise. Love Paul Westerberg too. Glad to know he’s still at it even if he’s keeping it to himself.
Lovely. My dad died at 57 of a brain tumor, about 4 years after he got sober. Those 4 years were gold. He worked as a tax lawyer until his final year, but throughout his life, he was also an enthusiastic professional amateur: painting, learning languages, playing jazz (badly). Your piece reminded 65-year-old me to treasure the conversations and times I *did* have with my father because you never know.
My mom died last year at 87, never having retired. Except she died with a thousand regrets of not traveling or enjoying her life. I decided I wouldn’t live that way. I want to enjoy the rest of my life. I hope your Dad has many more years of happiness ahead of him. Loved this piece.
And this is why Paul McCartney will never stop touring and why he brought the house down at Glastonbury at 80. Because when your work is who you are in your DNA, it's a lifeforce, not a burden. Never let anyone push you out of your passion.
Somehow you just know when it's time. And that is different for everyone. But it's only the right time when its right for YOU and no one else. And what is next is important. I have friends retried who are lost in their retirement, not sure how to find new footing. I see retirement (or whatever you want to call it these days because it's certainly not the 'retirement' of 25 years ago, and thank God!) as an opportunity. But that's different for everyone. Find what you love, jump in, swim around, let the waters envelope you.
This is why I'm an Oldster subscriber. You say your dad crushed it as an adjunct? You crushed it as an essayist. Oh, the talent on display here. Yours and Sari's. Thank you both, with hugs.
This is a wonderful read. Thank you. Insightful, uplifting and moving.
Inspiring and useful for me as I forge a new path forward.
Thank you for this. Very uplifting. Love this quote: “Recognition isn’t as important as being happy,” he said finally. “What makes you happy? That’s the most important question.”
Beautiful essay. My take away echos Annie Dillard''s quote, "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives." The important thing to remember is we get to decide. Retire? Don't retire. It's all up to you.
Wonderful story. Coincidentally, I’m getting ready to publish an essay on what it means to say a good goodbye.
I fall in the middle, between your age and your dad's. My kids are slipping into their 50s, and I think we are all so lucky in that we're doing what we want to even when it's hard. It makes getting up in the morning not only hopeful but joyous. Thanks for sharing this.