The R-Word Again

Another co-worker retired as of yesterday and as he was saying goodbye and shaking my hand, I had the feeling that he was regretting his decision.

Or maybe replaying in his thoughts all the years that have passed by.

His supposed moment of joy felt like he was consumed with sadness. 

I hope my sense was wrong.

I hope he's sitting at home right now, happy with his decision and mightily elated about a future engaging in other things. 

I get asked about it often. 

When is my last day?

My plan is to have no plan.

Because I really have no idea.

I don't want to admit that it's time ..... that I need to go.

It feels too final to me, too life altering, too much uncertainty about what would be ahead.

And besides, I want no part of a countdown to a last day.

No party, no cake, no goodbyes. 

(I think that I've mentioned about a thousand times that I don't like goodbyes.)

I want to wake up one morning, decide to take the day off, maybe extend it into a second day, decide that I don't want to hear my wake-up alarm going off any longer ..... and eventually just never return.

And I've currently arranged things so that in a position to go out that way.

          I do feel some joy about that.