Saying goodbye...

"In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes." - Benjamin Franklin

There comes a time in life when one must say goodbye, and today is my day to say goodbye to my father. Last week, I wrote about "re-tiring:" saying goodbye to my 35-year career and 40 years of active employment. By necessity, my focus immediately turned to my family.

My dad turned 91 this year, and he has been battling several forms of cancer, namely prostate, on and off for nearly 20 years. His health has been kind of a roller-coaster ride, but he has been amazingly resilient. During one round of chemo a few years back, he was up on a ladder building a roof over the patio of his house! And then he built a sunroom underneath of it. And a brick patio around that! He used self-hypnosis and the power of thought to change his experience. He could have felt sorry for himself, but he chose to make the most of his days.

In and out of health issues, and for much of his life, he has been creating art from wood that he has carved or turned on a lathe. His deep sense of creativity and his fascination with math, physics and science have inspired some truly amazing pieces, some of which are on display in public buildings in both Maryland and Texas, and most of which would never have happened had he just given up.

As I was preparing for my last day at work last week, I got a call that my father wasn't doing well. Having the freedom to do so (perfect timing), I hopped on a plane to see him for a few days. It wasn't easy, but I'm glad I did. Seeing him so weak, and fighting physical therapy, I just wished there was something I could do to protect him from his physical limitations. His cardiologist put him back in the hospital for tests. Getting more oxygen really perked him up. He didn't eat all week, but he was joking around and being more himself again. But since he wasn't eating, it wasn't hard to see where things might be going.

On Friday, I had a chance to talk with him alone, and we had a wonderful visit. Something we hadn't had a chance to do face-to-face for several years. I let him know that no matter what happened, I love him, and I respect his choice, either to stay and fight, or to let go. He looked at me in the eye and said, "I understand your concerns. I want to make it." When I gave him a hug and said goodbye, he held on tight and told me, "I love you so very, very much." I knew it was probably the last time I would see him. I spent time talking with his wife, the lovely mother-figure in my life, and made sure she is prepared for what is to come. All things considered, we're all in the best place we can be.

That evening I prepared for my trip home, and Saturday provided a lot of time to think while I was flying and driving back to our little paradise here in the mountains. Early this morning the call came. He was finally free from his physical constraints. He "made it," though not necessarily in the way that he had meant it.

Now I know many people would immediately respond, "Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss." This has always been a pet peeve, because we didn't lose anything, except some physical presence and a tired old worn-out body that wasn't serving anyone very well. He is still here with us, and I am happy. I am happy that my dad had such a long, happy life, despite his health challenges. I'm so glad he had his lovely wife, caring, nurturing and encouraging him for the past 35 years. I am glad that we have been able to build an adult relationship of respect and enjoyment after some tumultuous times in years past. I am happy that he is no longer encumbered by his frail, aching body. He is free. How could I be anything but happy? Yes, we will miss him, and yes, we will cry. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be happy.

Sooner or later, we all have to give up our physical bodies. It is such a natural part of our life, yet we fight it as if we can somehow go to the permitting department and negotiate a special exception for ourselves, or for the ones we love. Then we are all the more disappointed when the "get-out-of-death-free" certificate doesn't get approved. Death is just as beautiful as birth. It's just happening in the opposite direction. It doesn't have to be a sad occasion. The circumstances might be disappointing, or in some cases, unexpected or tragic, but death itself is freedom.

As I was watching my father's experience, it occurred to me that our body is in a constant state of dying. As soon as we finish a meal, our body digests the food, and the process of dying begins. Fortunately, a healthy body tells us something is wrong, triggering hunger and thirst, which inspires us to eat and drink. By re-nourishing ourselves, our body resets itself, starting the dying process all over again. Sooner or later, our body can't handle the constant cycle anymore and it wears out. It happens to every living thing in this universe.

So what is the lesson? Don't be "sorry for someone's loss" when a loved one makes a transition from this journey we call life. A life is nothing to be sorry for, and neither is death, which is a natural part of life. Take a moment to honor the person who has taken a brave step into the next realm. Use words that give comfort that don't include "I" or "me." Use words that give thanks and gratitude for a life well-lived, even if it didn't turn out the way you might have wanted it to. Life is too precious to be "sorry."

Embrace life, even in death. Allow death to happen, and appreciate its beauty and serenity, no matter when or how it happens. And encourage the people you care about to do the same. Most importantly, make the best use of the time you have. You're perfectly welcome to spend your time fighting and resenting nature, but that just steals what precious time you have to enjoy and appreciate the life around you to its fullest!

It's okay to say goodbye. We all have to do it in many ways throughout our life, and we always survive it. We survive this, too, and so do our loved ones who say goodbye to us.

Bye, Dad. Thanks for all you have taught me, right up to the very last day. See you when I get there.

Many blessings...

It happened, and I survived

In my last post a couple of months ago, I wrote about letting go and trusting in yourself, no matter what happens. As I got my thoughts together about the prospect of retirement, which I had already decided to do at that point, I started preparing a letter to let the people who had been there for me during my career know how much I appreciate them, and to share with them the wisdom my 40-year career has taught me.

Well, today was the day, and I survived it. I hit that "send" button at 8:18 this morning, and I almost cried as I clicked the mouse. Even after six months of planning, that one tiny "click" made it real. The sun will set tonight and rise again tomorrow, and I'll still be here, getting ready to start my day, just in a different way.

Recently, an acquaintance used a term that resonated well with me. She calls it "re-tiring," like getting new tires for a long trip. That works for me. My other go-to "r" word was "reprioritizing," because I'm not retiring. I'm doing something different. So what advice did this newly re-tired person share this morning?

1. Above all else, never, EVER become a slave to your job. Leave work at the end of the workday, and more importantly, leave work at work as much as you can. If you aren’t nurturing and enjoying the life your job supports, why are you doing it?
2. Never let your job (or your title, your paycheck, your house, etc.) define who you are. You are so much more than what you do. Material things are nice to have, but if you can’t find happiness and contentment without them, you might be looking in the wrong place.
3. As don Miguel Ruiz says in The Four Agreements (Read it!), “Always do your best” - whatever your best is at any given time. You can’t always give 110% of yourself, and certainly not 110% of the time. Be realistic, be honest, be fair, and don’t be afraid to ask for help.
4. No one is indispensable. If your life (job/family/children/community/social media) can’t function without you, you’re either doing something wrong, or doing it for the wrong reason. The things we worry about are usually a lot less significant than we give them credit for. Let. It. Go.
5. Enjoy what you do. If you don’t like your job, you won’t be happy the other half of your day, either. It won’t always be perfect, but make the best of what you’ve got, or find something better. You deserve it!
6. Don’t be afraid of change. Change can be intimidating, but it’s how we expand our horizons. Be willing to step out of your comfort zone. The biggest changes (even the ones we don’t like) can lead to the most unexpected and rewarding opportunities. Take a leap of faith and trust in yourself!

I have covered much of this wisdom in other blog posts, but somehow, seeing it all together reminds me how much I have grown and expanded since I first started working in 10th grade. It's been a long journey, and still, there is another path continuing ahead, so it isn't over. It isn't good-bye. It's just a change in energy, a change in focus. And believe it or not, that new journey started almost 7 years ago, which inspired me to start this blog.

Yesterday is a cancelled check. Tomorrow is a promissory note. Today is the only cash you have, so spend it wisely! - Kay Lyons

Many blessings...

Leap of faith

Did you ever notice how similar the words "change" and "challenge" are? I don't believe in coincidences, but maybe there is a reason why they are so similar. I think it's in our nature to resist change, because it goes against our innate desire to be safe and comfortable, which causes us to see the change in our life as being challenging.

Even small changes (like switching actors for Darren on Bewitched) can be unsettling. Absorbing bigger changes can be life-shattering. Anything from deciding what color to paint the living room to the death of a loved one, "springing forward" and "falling back" once a year, or choosing something you've never eaten at your favorite restaurant, or deciding to take a job in another city (or another job at all!) can be disturbing and disruptive. But one thing in life (besides death) that is guaranteed, is change.

Take retirement. I got my first job as a teenager, longer ago than I care to admit, and except for taking the summer off after I graduated from high school, I've been working ever since. I've been in the same industry for most of that time. I have worked hard, and I've worked well, and I have a lot to be proud of.

As I get closer to the other end of my working years, the idea of not having to go to work starts becoming intimidating. This isn't taking two weeks vacation. It's the rest of my life! I don't have a pension to rely on, other than my own savings (thank goodness for 401(k) plans!) and a lot of hoping. The questions start racing through my mind: Have I planned well enough? What if there is an unexpected emergency? What will I do if my money runs out?

As I ask myself these questions, I have also been doing what my job refers to as "readiness testing." I use retirement calculators online. I question my financial planner. I calculate my own scenarios. I try to think about things that could disrupt my life even more than just retiring. All the signs point to being on track - more on track than I could ever trust, yet still, I have trouble trusting it.

A former co-worker retired recently, and when we were talking recently, she said she went through the same thing. In fact, she still does sometimes. I guess it's in our nature to doubt ourselves and to doubt the world around us. Her financial planner has had to even get almost aggressive with her to insist that she's going to be okay!

Fortunately, one of the things I have learned to trust in life is the abundance of the universe. In all my years, I have never experienced anything that I didn't survive. And in hindsight, with only a few exceptions, there is hardly anything I experienced that was as bad as I expected it to be, or in some cases, as bad as I thought it was at the time. When I've put my heart and mind to it, I have manifested everything I have ever wanted or needed (and even a lot of things I haven't wanted or needed!) I've come through every challenge, every obstacle, every change, and by some miraculous twist of fate, I have survived all of it!

What I also have to remind myself is that it isn't retirement that I am finding so intimidating. It's stepping out of my comfort zone. The decades of depending on something to do from 9:00 to 5:00 every day, and having a paycheck twice a month to cover my bills. All of that will go away one day, sooner than I may be mentally prepared for, but it will come.

As much as I have cherished the thought of looking into the future when I could just wake up and do whatever I want Every. Single. Day., it is still intimidating to think that it is not only possible, but imminent. I can be thankful that I have learned the advice of a 19th century philosopher and writer, Andrew Jackson Davis, who was inspired with the following wisdom: "Under all circumstances, keep an even mind." Though my mind is not always even, I have this reminder, and it is always more even than it might be otherwise!

The time for my "permanent vacation" will come, and it will pass, and everything will be okay. And it will open the door to many new and exciting things that I just can't see right now. I know can make that leap of faith knowing that I will land safely, wherever that might happen to be. And when change is challenging you, you will do the same! Trust in yourself. Trust in God. Just trust!

Blessings...