RETIRED retired…

When I suffered my hemorrhagic stroke in March 0f 2013, I was working half time as a replacement minister in a nearby congregation. Since I “retired” within my denomination, I have done similar work in five different settings, as well as doing Sunday replacements for a number of congregations.

Yesterday, September 29, I attended a worship event at which a minister was placed in the position I filled, this time, as a settled replacement. I wasn’t keen on attending, as the ending of my relationship with this congregation was fraught with conflict and bad feeling. I was asked specially to come, so that a proper farewell could be offered me. (The terse ‘goodbye’ that occurred with quite inadequate, I thought, since I almost literally ‘gave my life’ for this group.)

Attending this event was quite useful to me in terms of my own recovery process, although I did not find it a particularly enjoyable event. I did enjoy re-connecting with some of the folk I had grown close to, but the afternoon produced the rise of some uncomfortable emotions in me.

At the coffee time after worship someone asked me if I now was “retired retired…”, to which I answered “yes.” This produced in me, later, a wave of shock and dismay. It was a true answer, but it forced me to realize that I have, unconsciously, been aiming my recovery at returning to work in the future. This is, of course, totally unrealistic: I will be 80 years old in three months. Still, that has been the unspoken backdrop for my activities.

This awareness has driven a considerable amount of reflection over the last 24 hours. This morning, after swimming, I found myself thinking, “Why am I doing this, if not to work? What is the point of rising early and working so hard…for nothing?” Of course, I realize that it isn’t for nothing. I still have a life to live, for however long it lasts. But still…I have never been unemployed and unemployable since 1952…that’s 62 years! I found myself drifting around the house today, wondering what I might do, now that I can’t work. This gives me a whole new self-image to absorb, a whole new perspective to assimilate.

In some ways, I seem to have little to look forward to. Visiting my children is a good option, except that they likely don’t want to see me that often or that frequently, and I am finding air travel increasingly onerous as I age. So why recover? Why labour to so little purpose? That’s my current internal question. Of course, I will continue to swim, work out and walk, because I have established the routine, and I hate changing routine! But I have plenty to ponder. What use is an 80 year old retired professional in a culture that so little values the “wisdom” of its elders? I don’t feel like I have much to pass on…and in fact, no one is asking me, either. Hmmm….