I think we’re all familiar with the abbreviations A.D. and B.C. and their role in defining time. In my case, I choose to use B.R. and A.R. to mark the distinction between before and after retirement. Before Retirement (B.R.) dates back to my birth 67 plus years ago and consists of 65 years of my life. After Retirement (A.R.) currently accounts for only two-and-a-half years. There are, of course, hassles related to both sides of the dividing line, and they don’t just stop once you stop working. It seems however that those once insignificant become magnified when your time becomes your own and not that of an employer.

I’m not sure, for example, how packages that required a signature ever got delivered to our home B.R? There was never anyone home so we were left with simply notices of attempt. After three attempts, I suppose we had to deal with the hassle of going on Saturday or after work to the distribution center and pick them up. In the whole scheme of life, getting a package was simply no big deal B.R. However, A.R. it has somehow become a priority because there’s nothing else on my To Do List.

I remember how my grandfather would wait for the mail every day like it was the most important part of his existence. The same was true as he read the electric meter, hoping to somehow save money or at least assure himself that the next bill would not be a surprise. It appeared to me that he was incredibly bored, but I’m beginning to change my perspective. He simply wasn’t busy, so he had time to reflect on life; something that he never had time to do when he was working and raising his family B.R. The mail and the monitoring were part of a daily routine that he established A.R. He was in the world that I am in now.

Yesterday, I waited all day for a UPS package and that was my sole priority. I had called the distribution center the day before and arranged for re-delivery. They had made the initial deliveries the week before while we were traveling. I was afraid to even take a shower, concerned that I would miss the delivery. In fact, I was so focused on that delivery that I made no other plans for the day and listened for the truck to arrive. It never came for two straight days as I continued to make phone calls to the center. They rarely answered the phone, but with persistence I got another delivery date of today. What a hassle! So, just like my grandfather I’m waiting for the mail. Ironically, my other grandfather was a retired Postmaster, who had a more restless spirit that required travel.

I relish my alone time at home, even if it only involves waiting for the mail. However, I need to mix that reflection time with travel and discovery. I have other plans today, so I will probably once again miss that delivery that requires my signature. They will certainly come while I am gone, just as they never came when I was waiting. I arranged for the next day just in case, but hate the thought of waiting around. I would have never done that B.R.