Labor Day Celebration–still in?

Posted on September 5, 2015 by bakrawiec

It’s my first Labor Day weekend since the big Retirement day, just four days ago, and I’m wondering…Am I still entitled to celebrate it?…Is the idea, once a worker, always a worker? Or it this day just for current workforce laborers?

Not that I’m not doing other kinds of work. Believe me, I still work all day! …Which reminds me of the years I was a stay-at-home—I mean work-at-home—Mom, and had a hard time justifying exactly what “work” I did all day, every day.

If you’ve been there, too, you know the routine.

Husband comes home from work, inquiring if wife has done this or that.

Wife apologizes. “Sorry. I was so busy all day; I just couldn’t get to it.”

Husband rejects too-busy justification: ”Too busy doing what? You don’t work.”

Seething at the thought of all the “housework,” emphasis on the work I had done, complicated by caring for his two children (They were always just “his” children at moments such as these!), I bristled.

Fast forward to six years ago. He stopped working outside the home; I didn’t.

“Did you [fill in the blank, e.g.: make those insurance calls etc.]?” I asked when I got home.

“Sorry. I never had a chance. I was too busy.”

Ready for the turned-tables retort?

“Too busy doing what? You don’t work.” …Plus! I got to add: “And you don’t even have kids to care for.”

Truce! Husband now understands and admits—working at home is hard work.

So now we’re in the same boat. And if it’s a canoe, we’re paddling in the same direction.

Maybe that’s what we’ll do on Labor Day—go canoeing. After decades of working, we deserve the Labor Day time off, too!

Happy Labor Day, fellow retirees—we deserve to celebrate our work lives, whatever work we did or still do! Don’t you think?

Posted in Employment, Retirement, Work | Leave a comment

former commute start time–early or late?

Posted on September 4, 2015 by bakrawiec

Liberated from the daily commute, I now have time to indulge myself in looking back at my work life vis a vis my retirement life—e.g. time and energy gained – through the lens of what working folks without such time might consider trivial statistics.

So, using the same US Census Bureau statistical table referred to in the last post, I satisfied my curiosity about my comparative leave-the-house-to-start-the-commute time.

Although I awakened before 5 a.m., when 4.3% of commuting fellow Americans over sixteen years of age had already hit the road on foot or by bike, train, bus, car, van, motorcycle, truck, or taxi for their daily commutation ritual, I was among the 8.7% of commuters who left their homes between 6 am. to 6:29. (Snowy weather excepted.)

Interestingly, about three-fourths of those 133,740,254 Americans who commuted to work left their homes between 5 a.m. and 8:59 a.m.

Among those who traveled between the rather amorphous 9 a.m. -11:59 p.m. time, I suppose, are night-shift workers—how many I do not know.

I would have made a terrible night worker, so much of a day person am I. But, thankfully, there are those individuals who prefer or sacrifice/acclimate themselves to working at night when others are home, after a day’s work. Those workers make it possible for others to food shop, get medical attention, and so on, after a hard day’s (literal: day’s) work. Really: thank God for them!

 If you are curious how your start-commute from home time compares with that of other Americans, check out:  US Commuting Data

 Also, if you retired from a full-time day job and are now working part-time nights, how has that start-commute time transition worked for you?

Posted in Commute, Retirement, Transitions, Travel Time to Work | Leave a comment

If “a penny saved is a penny earned,” how much is saved time worth?

Posted on September 3, 2015 by bakrawiec

One way I’ve gained time in Retirement is by eliminating (Yes!) my daily commute.

How much time? Morning commute: about 30 minutes. Afternoon commute: 40 minutes.

That’s 70 minutes per day/round trip; 350 minutes per week. That’s nearly 6 hours—almost one work day—minus lunch and breaks.

Subtracting yearly vacations etc., that’s 45 extra days per year.

According to the latest US Dept., of Commerce, Census Bureau Statistics, published in 2015, I was one of 139,786,639 American workers (minus 4.3% work-at-homers)  in 2013 who traveled to work.

Like the vast majority (76.3%) of those Americans, I commuted alone in either car, truck or van. (For me, that would be car!)

From what I could glean from the latest Census data, in so traveling, I spent a little more than the average (mean) commute time traveling to work, with the average clocked at (25.5) minutes., and my average 30 minutes.

Could have been much worse. 7.6% of my fellow travelers spent 45-59 minutes commuting to work, and 6.9% spent more than one hour. Whew!

(Curiously, there were no return commute statistics. Sometimes I admit being tempted to just stay at work, but I did return each day–as I’m guessing did most, if not all, my other 139,786,638 fellow workers (minus 4.3% work-at-homers), who are fellow commuting Americans.)

Now that I know how much time I’ve saved—earned through retirement—I need to commit to myself to spend it wisely.

Curious to know how your saved commute time compares with other Americans’? Check out:  US Commuting Data

Posted in Commute, Retirement, Time, Transitions, Travel Time to Work | 2 Comments

Here’s to the start of the “er” years

Posted on September 2, 2015 by bakrawiec

Struck me yesterday on the first day of retirement. I’ve entered the “er” years.

You know: sleep late(r), move slow(er), take long(er).

Okay, so maybe the move slower and take longer are nothing to brag about…

Ah! but consider, too, that in our retirement years we can be free(er) to work smart(er), fly high(er), dig deep(er), act wise(r).

That’s it…er… wait!…

Surely there are more, comparatively better aspects of retirement. In fact, I’d bet on it!

What other “er’s” might you add to the list?

Posted in Retirement, Transitions | 1 Comment

this is the day!

Posted on September 1, 2015 by bakrawiec

So much to think, to say, to feel…the long-awaited (and oftentimes dreaded) retirement day is here…

Today, for however long it takes, I will sit quietly so that I can process and ponder, with gratitude, my work-life journey, pausing to remember all the people who have been integral to where I have been, what I have done, who I have become.

Among those who have accompanied me, some stood by, watching, waiting, whispering; others pressed, pushed, and pulled.   I am grateful to them all.

Today, the emphasis will be on appreciating my yesterdays in order to better welcome and appreciate my tomorrows.

Today, I will borrow the Psalmist’s words, and say nothing else in this post, in tribute to God and all those He sent into my work life (especially those “thorns in my side” whose presence I didn’t appreciate–sorry to say: even still! Today is the day to make peace–as best I can–with them, too.)

“This is the day the Lord has made; we will be glad and rejoice in it.”

Gratitude. Joy. Watchwords for today. No matter what.

Please pray for me, and all those like me who retire today. Thank you!

Posted in Gratitude, Retirement, Transitions | Leave a comment

shall we dance?

Posted on August 31, 2015 by bakrawiec

“I’m dancing as fast as I can….”

How many times I heard that polite delayed workflow explanation from my beloved editorial assistant, who amazed me with many of her long-learned tricks of the trade, including her policy of giving me two copies of any requested report.

“One to use, and one to lose,” she would say.

When my editorial assistant retired, I gave her a collectible dancer figurine with a note in her retirement gift card that celebrated and reminded– now she was free, whenever she chose, to slow down the tempo, or to entirely sit out the next dance.

For years, she and her two sisters, who were geographically dispersed from within the contiguous states, had pledged at 9:00 a.m. (amazingly, EST) every morning to pray for each other. As her retirement present to me, she promised to include me in her daily prayer intentions.

On this last day of employment, when I’ll be officially terminated—no more emails or voice mails, no more paychecks–I’m thinking of my editorial assistant, and I’m thinking of how grateful I was–and still am–for her mature friendship. If she weren’t living in Arizona now, I’d be asking to celebrate this life transition with her, in person.

Concerning the dancing, though, I’m thinking in the opposite direction.

From now on, I’ll dance as much and as fast as I can—for the sheer delight of it!

As I think of another memorable last day on the job, I think of my daughter’s kindergarten teacher. Because our district had strictly enforced rules against gifting teachers, we waited until the last day of the school year was officially over to offer our little remembrance.

Knocking on the kindergarten door, accessible from the parking lot, we returned to share a token of appreciation on the occasion of the teacher’s retirement. Although our intentions were good, I’ve regretted having returned, given that we intruded on her personal retirement separation-reconciliation time.

In contrast to the joyful countenance with which she walked the children out and waved a hearty good bye to parents and students, when she graciously opened the classroom door for us, we found her wiping away the multitude of tears that had been free flowing.

After quickly thanking her, wishing her well, sharing our little present (a commemorative coffee mug–what design or message was on that mug, I honestly don’t remember), and exchanging farewell hugs, we made our awkward exit, sorry we had invaded her privacy.

With one last backwards look and wave, my last image of her was that she stood clutching that mug, though empty, as if it contained all the memories of all the children over all the years she ever had taught.

While I still wish we hadn’t gone back, I like to think that we represented for her all the grateful parents and children she ever had taught. And now, for me, she has given me permission to shed some private tears tomorrow…and the inspiration even to buy a mug to commemorate this big day—what it will say, I do not know—but I’ll know it when I see it!

Although they did not know it when they gave me what they assumed would be a “normal” end-of-the-year gift card, I will use the gifts of the last parents and children who wished me well the last day of school in June to purchase that mug to remember all the students, all the parents, and all the kindnesses over the years that had been extended to me.

Dancing my way into retirement, and drinking (coffee or tea!) when I’m thirsty—that’s a good combination for tomorrow and all the days that follow.

What retirement farewells do you most clearly remember?

Posted in Education, Employment, Retirement, Transitions | 5 Comments

what to do with the last paycheck?

Posted on August 30, 2015 by bakrawiec

Like some—but not all—workers, teachers are paid bimonthly, on both the 15th and last day of the month—but, typically, only during the school year. Most teachers need to fend for themselves during the summer when school is not in session.

Some earn a living during July and August by doing whatever odd jobs they can secure, like painting houses or mowing lawns. Others, like Aesop’s farsighted ant, store away resources for the summer (rather than the winter), putting aside a portion of their bimonthly salary into a summer savings program.

Some exceptional districts, like my about-to-be former one, provide employees with the option of receiving their annual salary distributed bimonthly over the entire calendar year, rather than just over the school year.

Grateful for that option, I chose the opportunity my district offered, receiving twenty-four (albeit smaller), rather than twenty (larger) paychecks.

Whether paid within the school or calendar year, the usual contractual payment convention is that when the last day of the month falls on a Monday, checks are issued on the preceding Friday. (Otherwise, weekends can be long and hungry–especially with small children.)

Tomorrow, Monday, August 31st is the last day of the month.

Thus, it was no surprise when I returned home from a little retirement breakfast with a couple of close colleagues yesterday that standing out from among the various bills and junk mail was evidence of the end-of-month paycheck.

Only this August paycheck heralds not only the last paycheck of the summer, but—drum roll!–the last paycheck—period–from my district—and possibly from any employer ever again, and definitely the last full-time paycheck from teaching.

Pretty monumental meaning for one little piece of paper, don’t you think?

Given its significance, I’ve decided I should do something special with that last check. Like frame it. (You know—the way businesses frame their first dollars earned. Although I would be framing my last dollars.)

Good news is my salary is directly deposited, so I would not actually be putting my last check under glass. (Thankfully I’m neither that nostalgic, nor foolish!)

Looking at that paper receipt now and then, will, I hope, remind me of the impermanence of all things…

When I worked in the frenetic world of publishing, I had in multiple places a quote from St. Teresa of Avila. Here are the parts of the quote that I held on to:

Let nothing disturb you; nothing frighten you. All things are passing away. …Whoever has God lacks nothing; God alone suffices.

Within the frame, beneath the last check receipt, I will include those words for reflection.

At this transitional time in my life, here’s how they speak to me:

Let nothing disturb you: not the work left behind undone, nor the present and future retirement unknowns

Nothing frighten you: not even the possibility of never ever receiving another paycheck

All things pass away: even the good and the not-so-good things—in the end: even me…

God alone suffices: He will direct my path along unfamiliar retirement terrain, as I step out in faith, hope, and love, one step at a time, seeking His wisdom.

I agree with St. Teresa. I put my money on God. In the beginning, at the end, and at all points on my life’s journey in between, He has and will take care of me: enlighten, support, strengthen, counsel, correct—provide all I need.

What to do with the last directly deposited paycheck, besides framing its evidence?

Whatever it is, I’m thinking, it should be a worthy expression of gratitude for the blessing of having had so many years working, and now retiring.

Like the teacher who appears when the student is ready, the best, most gratifying thing to do with that last check, I believe, will be made manifest, and when it is, I think it is best kept a secret, so that my left hand does not know what my right hand is doing.

What did you consider doing with your last paycheck?

Posted in Employment, Paycheck, Retirement, Salary, Transitions | Leave a comment

surprised by grief

Posted on August 29, 2015 by bakrawiec

When my father died, a close friend, whose mother and father had died–just two weeks apart, and about eight months before my father’s death—gently counseled me.

“Be prepared for a roller coaster of emotions,” she said. “One minute you think you’re fine, and the next minute you hear or see or smell something—and wham! Out of the blue, you find yourself crying.”

Her words rang true a month later, at a moment when I was standing, joyfully singing—loud and strong, along with the rest of the congregation, My Country ‘Tis of Thee.

(I really love to sing, and find it very therapeutic. Ironically, before I had stood to sing, I was congratulating myself for getting out of the house that night to attend a special Mass. I’m really doing a good job reconciling myself to my father’s death, I thought in anticipation of the start of the Mass.)

Then, the bottom fell out….

“Land where our fathers died…”

Out of nowhere, when I heard myself sing those words, words I had sung countless times without reaction since childhood, I started to cry, unable to finish the song.

And suddenly I felt guilty, too, for having sung those words so emotionlessly all those past years. I wondered how those whose fathers, husbands, and sons had died–especially in sacrificing their lives for our country–felt wherever they sang or heard those words.

Suddenly–and since then–the cost of freedom in the “[l]and where our fathers died” seemed a lot costlier.

Without background music, in anticipation of my retirement, I had a similar unexpected grief moment happen this morning at Mass.

When the teachers began assembling, full of joyful chatter seeing each other after a summer’s respite, excited to prepare for the new school year, I felt the tears begin to form.

And when the pastor gave a special greeting and blessing to “our teachers,” I prayed, “Dear Lord, I don’t belong in this active group any more. But, please, provide for me a teaching platform, still.”

And I thought of my friend’s words of death-related counsel from ten years ago, and I thought back further to when we first met in educational publishing, both former classroom teachers, and how she felt she was still a teacher—even more a teacher, with a classroom that extended from sea to shining sea.

I never shared her sense that I was more a teacher—or even a teacher, still– when preparing learning materials for students throughout America. No. I felt strongly that I was a teacher, only, truly, during everyday face-to-face interaction with the students, not vicariously through the preparation of teaching and learning materials, no matter how useful or widely used in classrooms everywhere.

And now, almost thirty years after I first met her, and once again being out of the classroom, I need to reconcile being a teacher—still or never more.

May all the teachers and students be blessed as the new school year starts. And may all the retired teachers, like me, looking for new ways to teach and to learn, be blessed, too.

Have you been surprised by grief?

Posted in Death, Dying, Grief, Retirement, Teachers, Teaching, Transitions | 4 Comments

to rise & shine, or to sleep in & lazy around ?

Posted on August 28, 2015 by bakrawiec

Over the years, some retired folks I’ve known have flaunted the opportunity to sleep in and to lazy around throughout the day.

Decidedly a morning person whose day (or at least the best part of it) feels done by 8:30—that would be 8:30 a.m., the thought of sleeping in as a retirement perk doesn’t really appeal to me as a matter of course, though I’m sure there are days when I will be most grateful for the opportunity to pamper myself.

No. I need to get up, get dressed, get moving—otherwise a certain unwelcomed malaise sets in. I learned that about myself when our children were young and I was doing nighttime Adult School teaching.

I hated the feeling that I had frittered away the day; talked too much/too long on the phone about banal topics. I hated that I was spending most of the day without paying serious attention to being presentable (hair, make-up, outfit) for public viewing.

Fortunately for me, now, even though I won’t have an employment-related reason for maintaining my work life schedule, I have a permanent, non-employment related reason for not reverting back to those old unemployed habits.

A head-on crash with a pickup truck led me to the spiritual routine of starting my day with morning Mass, an incredible blessing to me. So, as long as I am mobile, I look forward to continuing that start-of-day routine, even (especially) in retirement.

That daily appointment/commitment gets me up and dressed, albeit slightly later than required when I was working, but still early enough to give me time to watch some inspirational shows on television before I set out for Mass.

When I think back to the days when our children when young and I was home, without the motivation to put on makeup and out-and-about clothing, I think by comparison to something anthropologist Margaret Mead once shared about an older female relative.

I believe it was her mother she reminisced about, sharing how much she admired that her mother intentionally got herself “fancied up” (my expression) first thing in the morning, for the sake of making what she thought was an important statement to her grandchildren. She loved them enough and respected them enough that she wanted, not only to do her best (as in making them a good breakfast), but in looking her best for them, impeccably dressed, with every hair in place and makeup on her face.

That mental image of Ms. Mead’s mother, all dolled-up making breakfast for her grandchildren, made a lasting impression on me. Normally, we put on our best face for the outside world; the more important the person(s) we expect to encounter, the more particular, the more well-dressed as a rule, we are about our appearance.

Here was a woman who esteemed her grandchildren enough to put on her best face for them. To show that she was up and ready to serve them.

That struck Margaret Mead about her mother, and it struck me, too.

Although I have no children or grandchildren for whom to fix morning breakfast, no matter. There is a sense of self-pride that says I want to live each moment, to be ready—fully awake and alive to and for myself.

I thank Margaret Mead for sharing that personal testimonial, apologizing if my remembrance is incorrect; if the adult relative she described was her grandmother, not her mother. No matter—the lesson stuck with me, and I am grateful.

Up and ‘at ‘em…that’s my retirement mantra!  Places to go. People to see. I have Someone to worship and to be with each morning.

What about you? How different is the tempo of your retirement days from your work ones?

Posted in Employment, Retirement, Transitions, Work | 2 Comments

school bells about to ring, but not for me….

Posted on August 27, 2015 by bakrawiec

Here in the East, next week, they’re ringing bells for school, but not for me….I’m retiring!

I surprised myself in the last post when I explained why I chose to celebrate my retirement on three days–instead of just one–spread over two weeks. I speculated that perhaps my trifold celebration was a subliminal way of trying to delay the reality of the end of my teaching career, a delay that would end up “dragging out the pain of separation.”

“Separation.” That word stopped me.

How ironic! At the start of my schooling, I had separation anxiety about going to school. Now, decades later, at the end of my schooling (albeit as a teacher), I’m having twinges of separation anxiety about leaving school.

Even if I’m the only former teacher with separation anxiety at both ends of the school experience: how human! Anxious about going to school; equally anxious about not going. Go figure!

Someone who retired a quarter of a century ago tried to prepare me. Tried warning me about post-retirement first day of  school blues.

“It’s like the Dalmatians,” she said. “Fire bell sounds and they’re on their way to the firehouse. Be ready for what you’ll feel the first day of school when the school bell rings. Don’t be surprised. Your instinct—no matter how long you’ve been retired—will be to head to school. You’ll see.”

I’ll see. I’ll let you know if this year when the school bells ring I feel queasy, not because I am–but because I am not–racing there.

What reminds you about, or signals for you, the separations inherent in retirement?

Posted in Employment, Retirement, School, Separation anxiety, Teaching, Transitions | Leave a comment