A New Day After Retirement
I recently attended a small, quaint dinner party for my husband’s colleague who is retiring. It was an informal and comfortable get-together. There were several colleagues (and some of us extras) gathered around a big square table in a back room of a lovely local restaurant. The venue was conducive to shared conversation. Often at such dinners, you might find yourself bound by chit chat with the person next to you. During this meal, however, our centered engagement was inclusive and inviting. There were no formalities, no plaques with inscriptions, no microphones, and no fanfare.
Amidst the warm conversation, there were many compliments verbalized for this man, a doctor, whose spent his entire career caring for those diagnosed with cancer. Several toasts were given, informal but heart felt. I was struck by the comments from those who’ve worked beside him. A common theme emerged; a celebration of not only his expertise in oncology, but the fact that he’s been such a dedicated teacher to those interested in the pursuit of cancer care. Another co-worker even stated he became an Oncologist because of the encouragement and backing he received by this mentor. As I listened, I was struck by the far reaching impact of his career, not only by what he did professionally, but by who he is personally. I think it’s impossible to separate the two.
Retirement is a marked transition, and often a bit tricky. For those in careers working a job they love, leaving their work life opens up a whole plethora of challenges. What the heck am I going to do every day? Where will I find purpose? And for those whose tenure has been defined by such purposeful interaction, turning your badge in may be especially difficult. The fear of facing such a huge void can be unnerving, so say the least. In the case of my husband’s colleague, shepherding someone diagnosed with cancer through difficult medical treatment can yield unique bonds that etch the heart. I can only imagine how hard it is to move from that realm.
I’m reminded (from personal experience) that retirement is about letting go. When I left my final nursing job, I wondered what I would do without the ability to say, “I’m a nurse.” I loved labeling myself in such a way that defined a large part of my purpose. Yet, I also realized at the time I shouldn’t shy away from the challenges of my transition. After all, life is all about letting go. Although this was a big letting go, newness awaited.
Please excuse the Irish in me, but if I had the opportunity to make my own toast to my husband’s colleague, I’d say this. First of all, rest in all the goodness you extended into the world. That is a gift that will keep on giving. Second, this is not the end. Regroup yourself in creativity and awareness. For all you’ve accomplished, there’s more; more joy, more purpose, and yes, more fun. After all, don’t they say when one door closes another opens?
Retirement is an opportunity to give yourself permission to think outside the box, redefine purpose, and be bold. So, Dr. Howard Gross, here’s to you. Congratulation on an extraordinary professional career. Here’s to all the ways you’ve touched others, and here’s to all the ways you will continue to do so. Your unique brand of extraordinary will continue to define you not only today, but all your tomorrows.