I’m back in the routine, enjoying the retirement life at home. It was great to get away for a long weekend and certainly a refreshing change for my working wife. We’re on the road again in a few days, so I intend to get the most out of my comfortable office chairs. I just got back from my daily run (3,621 consecutive days) and will soon settle into my television soap operas. This week it’s Vikings, Outlander, and Curse of Oak Island. They are really modern versions of the shows I used to hypocritically condemn housewives of getting hooked on at home: Days of our Lives, General Hospital, As The World Turns, All My Children, Guiding Light, Search for Tomorrow, The Edge of Night, The Young and the Restless, and The Bold and the Beautiful. I would have never wasted my time on any of these shows, but here I am in front of the boob tube again this morning. I consider it a temporary privilege in being retired and promise to find more constructive ways to use my freedom in the future.

Just like the housewives of my childhood became the stay-at-home parent of today, the television often becomes a close companion. There’s no longer a water cooler to gather around with co-workers. I don’t have kids to watch or even grandchildren nearby, plus I’m just not ready to volunteer for anything. My running, travel, writing, reading, and collecting, along with regular “Leadership Meetings,” that also occupy the time in more “responsible” ways. There’s also that feeling of guilt when other people have to come to my home and do the projects that I’m not skilled enough to accomplish. We’ve had painters, cabinet repair specialists, and cleaners give me “the eye” of either envy or pity as they witness my laziness. I hope they realize that I put in my time in “punching the clock,” but many of them unfortunately will never get to enjoy a comparable retirement. I’m a lucky man, for now:

He had white horses
And ladies by the score
All dressed in satin
And waiting by the door

Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was

White lace and feathers
They made up his bed
A gold covered mattress
On which he was laid

Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was

He went to fight wars
For his country and his king
Of his honour and his glory
The people would sing

Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was

A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died

Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was

These lyrics from Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, released in 1970, start on a positive note but take-on a sad twist at the end. They remind us that fortune is fleeting and we have to enjoy it while we have it. I woke up this morning with soreness in my right leg, knowing that any injury could suddenly end my running streak.  I felt lucky to even struggle through the miles. By the same token, there are many my age that unfortunately can’t even walk or get out of bed. The same is true for people of all ages afflicted with disease and other physical handicaps. Running is my way of defying age, and I do it every day knowing that I am a lucky man. 

I’m blessed to have a comfortable home, food on the table, cute pets, a loving wife, friendship, family, children, and grandchildren. I’m fortunate to be in good health, financially secure, and happy. We have the resources to travel where we want and have journeyed many places together. Running every day is my way of celebrating the freedom, prosperity, and success that I’ve achieved in life. It’s up to me to make the best of every precious day, and realize that I don’t always accomplish this mission by watching soap operas. I know that someday people will say, “what a lucky man he was,” but it’s up to me to continuously remind myself what a lucky man I am today!  And now…back to Vikings. 

For a poem I wrote years ago also see Post #22.