Retirement Steps
This isn't what you think.
by Noreen Braman
The only way the word “retire” is going to be in my vocabulary will be about “retiring” my car. With tires. Which I just did and have 80,000 miles before the next “retiring.” Me and my 2013 Hyundai still have lots of roads to travel, both figuratively and literally. In age, me and the car are similar, and still on the road. No fancy back-up camera or computerized screen. Just the mechanical, adjustable rear-view mirror, and a backlit dashboard counting my miles, my temperature, and how far I can drive before I need gas. I am proud to drive a 6-speed with the original clutch. People are surprised. A little like the dentist who always praises my original teeth. With no cavities. (Well, one.) To use a phrase that will absolutely date me, I just keep on truckin’.
Still, I am surrounded by people making plans for retirement or actually retiring, including some who haven’t even waited for that magic retirement age algorithm. There are others who vow to “never retire,” and they come in two groups. The first group who define themselves as their work and can’t imagine doing anything else with their lives. This is the “I’ll die with my boots on” group. The second group, while contemplating they will also die with their boots on, are people like me. Those unable to contemplate how to live once the paychecks stop. Those of us who, for most of our lives, lived paycheck to paycheck, remortgaged houses, dipped into savings for an emergency (and maybe the luxury of a vacation or two) or otherwise have not amassed the million dollars currently thought of as the bare minimum to retire on. (No, you can’t include social security or pensions in that – that’s one million aside from any other money you have or will get).
Me, I took my social security at the age that was specified – no early start for me. Combining that with my full-time job and my part-time public speaking felt very strange. I developed a habit of checking my bank account just to look at how much money was there – after paying bills and buying groceries. I didn’t run out and buy a sportscar, but I did start doing things that I never would have done before. Some short holiday trips. Attending a conference in Arizona. Flying to visit family. Planning a cruise 3 years in advance. Putting a deck on the back of the house. Stuff like that. For five years I felt like a huge burden had been lifted. The first time in my working life I was NOT working paycheck to paycheck. Then came that birthday. The decade changer. I turned 70.
It's been only a few months, but my always ready to rise anxiety woke up. Almost every morning I wake up with physical manifestations of anxiety – adrenaline pumping and an unformed feeling of fear. My old friend, from my paycheck-to-paycheck days had returned. Because turning 70 brought along some new fears. Fear of Cognitive Decline, Health Problems, the Never-Ending Unpaid Mortgage, All the Clutter in the House, Work Weariness, and Unfinished Business which includes “Final Expenses.”
Then along comes Arthur C. Brooks, who in 2019, wrote an article, titled, in large letters, Your Professional Decline Is Coming (Much) Sooner Than You Think, and in tiny letters the subheading: Here’s how to make the most of it. The reason I have encountered this article is because The Atlantic has been sharing this as a teaser all around social media to encourage subscriptions. I am curious as to how many new subscribers signed up from seeing this article, and how old they are.
The graph at the top of the article stopped me in my tracks. A man with glasses and a briefcase is standing at the top of a staircase. Behind him are steps rising up in numbers, each a decade in life. Age 10, age 20, age 30, age 40, and then the pinnacle at age 50.
The man is peeking over the other side which shows a precipitous drop from 50 to 60. 60 is lined up at age 20. Next is the drop to 70, where the graph ENDS. The age of 10 is on the left-hand side in line with 70. There are no more steps to go down. Just underground.
I couldn’t read the article. At age 70, what could it tell me? Settle my affairs? How can I do that when my cognitive abilities are now in line with a 10-year-old? Sure, I was a pretty smart 10-year-old, honor roll and all that, but a 10-year-old needs supervision, no matter how smart they are for their age. And what about supporting myself? I was a pretty cool babysitter at 10, having 2 younger sisters. However, me bouncing into someone’s house now with the cognition of a 10-year-old, who quite possibly knows nothing about computers, or microwaves, or back-up car cameras, OR THE INTERNET – parents wouldn’t trust me for a second.
So now I am wondering, why I am still able to work, to drive, to find my way around, take care of my house, my car, remember all my kids and grandkids names, as well as knowing quite a few of the Jeopardy questions when younger contestants are staring into space – will my brain suddenly remember this chart and just cut me off? Like right now
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