Tales of Retirement
By Peter Follett, C.E.T.
Engineering Manager
Retired March 1, 2013
For several reasons, I didn’t retire until I was in my seventy-sixth year. After a long career in an industry that I always had a passion for, I still really liked my job. As well, my wife, who is several years younger, was still enjoying her work as a nurse. There wouldn’t have been much point in only one of us retiring.
Reluctant to retire
I was reluctant to take the plunge for the concerns that most people have. Reduced finances. Loss of contact with colleagues. Loss of identity. No reason to get going in the morning. Little intellectual stimulation. Low feelings of self-worth. And it goes on.
My dilemma
From childhood, through school and career, I have always been very busy with “extra curricular” activities and projects, and managed to balance those with the schooling and career. In elementary school, I built a motorized go-cart, model airplanes and forts. In high school and university, I built two log cabins, and fished and camped whenever possible. Once out in industry, I raised four children (with help of course), learned to fly, built a house, sheds, barns, two boats, a large log cottage and boathouse, and a two-place float plane. I was on two volunteer boards, headed an ombudsman function for a volunteer organization, and spent 25 years as a volunteer ski-patroller on weekends. With all that going on, I successfully started and managed a new division for my company. How could I leave all that behind? That was my dilemma.
Retired and prepping for real retirement
My wife got the ball rolling, as she was ready to retire and figured I should be too. The key was to prep the farm for sale and look for a smaller home with less maintenance so we could spend more time at the cottage and do some travelling. That was enough incentive and as it turned out occupied the first year of retirement. Getting ready to move from a farm that we owned for 33 years was a full-time job in itself. The tons of items that we had collected (because they might be needed at some unspecified point in time) ended up at the dump. The dump supervisor and I got to know each other on a first name basis. Since we already had a buyer for the farm, it was then necessary to find the “perfect” bungalow that would last us into our later years and allow us to function on one floor when it would become necessary. It needed to be close to, or in, a small town with lots of places within walking distance, for shopping, etc. That was quite a hunt, but between sporadic visits to the cottage and a necessary trip driving to the west coast for a family wedding, we found it. Then we needed to make the modifications in decor, and to add kitchen appliances and a workshop that would put our spin on the place. Almost one year to the day, we declared that we were done working on our house, and could really retire. Really? Maybe not.
Now time to really retire?
It was during the throes of the worst winter we had experienced for many years. At the end of March we had had enough of winter, put away the skis, got the camper out of storage and headed for California on a day that was still -25C. When finally back home, after 14,000 km of travelling, we headed to the cottage and started the process of getting it opened up, the docks and boats in the water, and the float plane parked. Darn! Those trees need to come down before they fall down on the cottage, and we need the firewood.
So here we are, almost winter again, and, although I am retired from my workplace and have divested myself of most of my volunteer obligations, I’m still not caught up. I look at the list of things that need to be done before winter really settles in and muse, “How did I ever find the time to work!”