Twenty Years On

Twenty years ago this week marked the end of a short reformative phase of my life.  Inevitably, this has been a time for looking back down the years and reflection.  In those days, I was still working in an office and receiving the highest salary of my career.  The job had its snags but the work was, in the main, satisfying.  The millennium year gave me the opportunity to travel more than ever before and I spent five weeks working in the USA.  My boss wasn't the easiest bloke to get on with, but he could be generous. 

Those five weeks spanned the 100th birthday of HM Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, and I had already made plans to ring bells in her honour.  "No problem.  Come home and ring, then go back again," he said, as if it were just the other end of the country.  I left the office in California on Thursday afternoon, was ringing on Friday evening, went on a coach trip I'd also been booked on, but would have cheerfully have given up if necessary, on the Saturday and was back in the office by Monday afternoon!

Two years later, the business had changed completely and I found my situation no longer comfortable.  It all came to a head one Tuesday morning when I decided, 'I can't work like this!'  I walked out of the office and got a train home.  From the safety of my lounge, I phoned the boss and told him "I quit!"  Apart from telling me he thought I was making a big mistake, he took it very well.  I didn't know until much later what else was going on at that time (and the detail isn't appropriate here).  Suffice to say that, within months the whole business had collapsed and I had had a narrow escape.

Meanwhile, I had started a new life behind the wheel of a van.  I'd always enjoyed driving and now I was seeing places I'd never dreamed of, and getting paid for the privilege.  By the time I retired some 13½ years later, I'd covered almost a million miles, very few of which I hadn't enjoyed.  Naturally, my income had fallen substantially and, for a couple of years, I tried to cultivate secondary income streams, first as a writer and later (and completely without success!) teaching an adult education course.  Soon, the demands of being a same-day courier had rendered any other aspect of life - business or social - virtually impossible.

On the domestic front, I moved through a succession of flats, and had begun to build up a social life from scratch in what, twenty years ago, was to me still a virtually unknown town.  Being a bell-ringer eased this challenge and when, a few years on, I faced a crisis in my church life it was through a ringing friend that I found a new place to worship and to grow spiritually ... the church that I still attend, some thirteen years later.

Retirement brought with it another upheaval.  I remember from my past a friend for whom that transition had proved impossible and within six months he was dead.  I resolved that this wouldn't happen to me and I was in the fortunate position of being able to enter a plan of phased retirement, working three weeks out of four for a while, and then two, gradually building up other interests at the same time.  I think this was successful and now, four years on, people occasionally ask, "... and are you fully retired now?"

Politicians often excuse their demise by 'wanting to spend more time with their family'.  That's not my situation, at least not in that way.  I was able to spend more time on family history but, though absorbing - and many would say addictive - it can't command all one's time.  Throughout my life, I've always had a 'project' of some sort on the go.  Sometimes these would take a week, sometimes - like the twin family tree for my cousin's golden wedding a couple of years ago - many months would be devoted almost exclusively to their completion.  Such things absorb time, but don't provide a proper structure to life: certain organisations or interests that occupy a regular weekly 'slot'.

Two years ago (with some trepidation, I admit, for this was outside of my 'comfort zone') I expressed interest in an inter-church project to develop a weekly drop-in facility for the homeless and vulnerable in our town.  Gradually my involvement there grew from monthly to fortnightly and then every week as I found myself more and more able to take a greater part in the work.  However, this was only one morning a week and time was beginning to feel heavy.  Again, a friend came to the rescue.  This time it was another volunteer at the drop-in.  As we chatted one morning, she explained that she had recently become involved with our local hospice.

Like many such places, the hospice runs a number of high street shops as a source of finance and my friend suggested that I might enquire whether they would like some help in that direction.  I was soon sucked into their operation and now help in one way or another a day and a half each week, and more often if convenient and necessary.

For the moment this active retiree has a comfortable framework, and sufficient other interests to occupy the time between eating and sleeping.  How long each aspect will continue to contribute to this comfort is not for me to determine but I have many resources to turn to when change occurs!