Where the Time Goes
At a dinner someone asked what all we wanted to do when we retired and everyone had a different answer.
End of one life, beginning of another. Retirement is a funny thing. Never needed to wait for the right opportunity but it doesn’t seem so simple except in hindsight as the distractions give way to an astonishingly stark equation. Only so many years left in a decade, days left in a year, hours left in a day. And no more home renovations, college tuitions, divorces left to pay for. The first trip to commemorate this abiding freedom.
Grabbing the gear out of a dusty corner of the basement, hopping in the car and hitting the road. Fingers tapping the steering wheel all the way. Setting out from the harbor, back to the mountains, taking in the cool breeze off the water. Overcome with emotion, struck dumb by the sun on the horizon. But was it always this hard to paddle?
