To Keep or not to Keep?

Dear Friends,

I’ve always wanted to be a mattress,  a suitcase and a couple of boxes kind of a gal. Every time I move, I say goodbye to a ton (or two) of clothes, furniture, books and tchotchkes. But then, before I know it, objects keep piling up again! There are simply too many things out there that I like, need or must have!

Yesterday was all about de-cluttering. I thought I start with my wardrobe, since I’m very good at tossing out what has ceased to be useful or beautiful, but this time around, I couldn’t bring myself to pretend that I was allowed to pack only one suitcase. The thought of giving away even the least appealing garment or accessory ran shivers down my spine. What ifs, buts and maybes kept creeping into my process of elimination. I’ve never lived on fixed income before. What if I can only afford the bare necessities from retirement on? Maybe I have to wear these clothes till the day I die!

At 10’oclock in the morning, I finally reached for the Merlot. Ten ounces of red later, a much more optimistic Lili put on Roy Orbison’s "Pretty Woman" on repeat, and had herself a fashion show in front of the closet mirror, promising to get rid of the ill-fitting and the unflattering, without prejudice.

Big bags that tote daybooks, make-up bags, lunch containers and sometimes even a pair of 

indoor shoes — out! Conservative tops and bottoms that look good only in traditionalist milieus — out! A mountain of scarves and custom bijouterie, to grab and hold seven/eight-year-olds attention, straight into granddaughters’ dress-up chest!  

By the afternoon, I was feeling very good about my iron will, and then I took a break to read the news on line.

Regrettably, I landed on an article about the sad state of most seniors. Apparently, 30% of Canadian retirees return to work to make the ends meet.

Later at night, I got out of bed, and reluctantly snuck couple of business-like pieces into the pile of “keepers," just in case.

Nomad

Dear Friends,

My unexpected decision to retire and leave Toronto, surprised everyone. It also raised many two-fold questions and concerns. 
Close friends and family members are worried whether I’ll have enough money to live on. My sons predict their “city girl” mom will not survive in a small town. A few are wondering whether Seasonal Affective Disorder had something to do with my resolution. I don’t really have a “court pleasing” explanation (as we say in Farsi). All I know and feel, is that it's time to go.

My father’s diplomatic career influenced my brother and me very differently. He still lives in the house he bought twenty-some years ago. I, on the other hand, am a rolling stone — fourteen moves, only in the past seventeen years! Change excites me! My name is Lili, and I am a nomad. 
I also know moves can be deceiving. I remember every time I watched my mother begin the laborious process of packing, I hoped in the new country there would be less parental fighting and more parenting. Alas, I never got my wish. All I ever ended up with, was yet another language to forget.

No, I haven't fallen prey to romantic adolescent notions. I know, most often a cigar is just a cigar, no hidden signs, opportunities or even real beginnings, just a change of postal code. However, the remote possibility of a new life, a better, more joyful life continues to haunt me, surpassing the certainty of improbability. With career out of the way, I can leave Toronto, to build a new life in Cobourg, a small town by Lake Ontario that has captured my attention for the past twenty-four years.   

Rejuvenation

Dear Friends,

I must admit, the night I declared my freedom, I had a panic attack. Of course, it could’ve also been acid reflux (it was a horse-worthy meal after all). But, as the days passed and I heard myself telling people I was retiring (with a grin), I realized I’ve made the right decision. I also realized that the road to freedom was not going to be a smooth one - so much to do before not having to do anything! From filling out the appropriate forms for the Board to filling in my cavities, before my dental plan expires!

Thank goodness I am a planner, a veteran list maker. As I write down everything that I have to attend to before signing off, I feel so invigorated that I’m afraid this newly found energy would make me doubt my decision again! 

Wood Horse

Dear Friends,

The idea of retirement came to me one stressful Saturday afternoon, about a month ago. I was having a hard time writing report cards, a part of my job that I had always enjoyed. Comments wouldn’t come to me as easily as they used to neither would adjectives nor verbs. For hours I typed, cut, pasted, copied, stared at the white screen, and then started all over again. When I realized I’d rather do anything else, including clean my apartment, I knew the end was near.

I blame my quick decision to retire on the Wood Horse, the Chinese astrological sign, under which I was born. Of course, my age, declining memory and increasing inability to handle stress played a bigger role, but I would like to believe that the fast and furious horse made me do it.

On January 31, as I savoured a delicious New Year meal in a beautiful Chinese restaurant, I declared my freedom! 

One Hundred and Twenty-Two Days to Retirement

Dear Friends,
Two years short of being "eligible" to retire, Lili decides to move out of teaching!
Allow me to share with you the delights and challenges of preparing for a new existence in a new town. I know, retirement shouldn't really include a physical move, but then you are reading Lili, not your most logical, reasonable person. Stay tuned!