See Part Two: Our Calendar Has Other Plans for the second part of this post.
Part One
When October 3, Michael’s retirement anniversary, rolls around again, we will have spent almost five of his first twelve retirement months traveling. When rearranging furniture in the living room recently, I considered incorporating our suitcases into the area as side tables. This would make packing quicker, but the lamps would be sitting on the floor while we’re gone, and it would cut down on my daily steps. I’m also thinking about moving the washer and dryer from the laundry room into our bedroom. Fewer steps again, yes, but think of the time I’d save unloading and reloading the suitcases.
Seriously, we have been on some amazing trips, seen and experienced things we never dreamed of. Turquoise seas, red sunsets, beignets in New Orleans, the Atlantic Ocean on Florida’s coast, the history and beauty of Italy and Scotland were beyond what I expected. All that said, having the time to watch grandchildren singing at Christmas concerts, dancing at recitals and gathering for Cousins’ Camp topped all of it.
It’s been a lot of time away from home. We chose this life, and we have loved most of it. We carefully arranged each trip but gave little thought to the days between departures.
What We Thought Would Change
We spent years preparing financially for retirement. As it turns out, that was the easy part. Financial readiness came with spreadsheets, projections and professional advice. Daily life arrived without instructions.
I had already been retired for five years when Michael came home. I thought I understood retirement because I had built a life that worked well for me. I had my own rhythm. My mornings included quiet time for study, prayer and journaling. I worked on writing and creative projects. I controlled the noise, the schedule and most of what happened inside our home during the day.
I did not have a detailed picture of what our days would look like after Michael retired. I mainly imagined what would disappear.
He would no longer leave for work every morning. He would not come home carrying the stress of the day. The business travel and demanding schedule would end. We would have coffee together in the morning, most of the time on the deck, and enjoy more dinners without work sitting invisibly at the table with us.
What Actually Changed
The coffee happened. It remains one of the steadiest parts of our life, wherever we are. When we are at home, the deck part has been less dependable. Weather, travel, illness, business and plain laziness gradually moved us inside. Some mornings we look out at the deck while drinking our coffee, which is almost the same thing if one is willing to be generous.
Dinner remains important too. Wednesday evenings with our friends, or dinner together at home, give the week some structure. Steady church attendance on the Sundays we are home has also become comforting.
Other routines have quietly disappeared. We used to play cribbage after dinner. Now the news or other programs often get in the way. Neither of us officially decided that television should replace cribbage. It simply staged a small and successful takeover.
We are becoming evening homebodies, which surprised me. We enjoy traveling, but when we are home, we often want to stay here. Even Hidden Creek Estates, one of our favorite places and only a short distance away, has seen less of us lately.
Retirement habits appear to form whether we choose them or not.
What I Didn’t See Coming
Michael has settled into retirement remarkably well. I know this because he tells me regularly.
He does not miss the schedule, the driving, the business travel or the stress. He misses the people, although he understands that seeing former colleagues will now require his initiative. He is freer, calmer and more relaxed than I have ever known him. I am grateful for that. I wanted this for him.
My adjustment to Michael’s homecoming has surprised both of us, because I looked forward to his retirement. Since I did not leave the workplace, I did not anticipate how much my life at home would change. I lost the rhythm I had created during the five years before he retired. In a very real way, I retired all over again.
His presence is not the problem. Learning how to live with his presence throughout the day has been the adjustment. Who knew Michael preparing a ham sandwich for me at lunchtime would feel like an intrusion.
A Room of His Own
Michael has adjusted well partly because he has a place that belongs to him. His train room has walls, a door and projects waiting inside. He can spend time there without wondering whether he is excluding me. He knows we have other parts of the day together.
My art studio is different. It is open to the rest of the house. That worked when I was the only person home. The privacy came from the empty house, not from the room itself. Once Michael retired, I began to feel oddly guilty when I turned toward my own creative pursuits. He was not asking me to entertain him. He was perfectly content. I was the one acting as though being in the same house meant we should be doing the same thing.
That may explain some of the creative blocks I have felt lately. I have been waiting for the old conditions to return instead of deciding what I need now. Perhaps the studio needs to change. Perhaps my thinking does. A closed door might help, but permission from myself may be even more useful.
We have more shared time now, both at home and when traveling. That should make separate time easier, not guiltier. Independent interests do not take anything away from us. They give us something to bring back to each other.
The Rhythm of Leaving and Returning
Travel has shaped our first retirement year. It has been a time of discovery and enrichment, and experiencing so much of the world together has been everything we hoped for. We love it, and we are already planning trips for 2027 and beyond.
Travel has also disrupted home life. We come home, open the suitcases, do the laundry, catch up with family and friends, and begin preparing to leave again. School events, grandchildren and weekend trips fill the spaces between larger journeys. We are beginning to understand that this is now our actual life.
So Where Did We Put the Suitcases
Today they are living in the storeroom and probably feel a certain relief sitting there in the dark, not being thrown around by baggage handlers or stuffed to their limit by me. Traveling is too much fun to set aside and something we waited a long time to do together. It’s not going away, but we need to figure out what the time in between looks like and bring a sense of order to it.
Sometimes life feels like a vacation that keeps going. An open calendar is not necessarily an empty one. It can fill surprisingly quickly, especially now we’ve learned that Tuesday is as available as Saturday. This does not always create a calm life. Being aware of our calendar helps us to protect the days between trips instead of assuming there will be plenty of them.
I will talk about this in Part Two of this series before the suitcases come back out again, at least for me. Michael has a trip planned for himself, and I will be at home. This will be a first for us since he left work behind last October. I’ve assured him that I will not move the washer and dryer out of the laundry room while he is away. I’m certain I can find other ways to fill my time.
