I've been thinking about a new blog title and emphasis now that my “time of retirement” is over. Or at least the school year is over. I am still in the mode of thinking of a year from September to June, I guess.
We were walking to town in South Haven last week and I was telling Jim how I would not want to use the term “re-inventing” oneself for any retirement blog because after all, “It's still me.” I stopped and said, “Hey, maybe that's my new blog title.”
We have observed how often the word “still” is used when questioning folks of a certain age. “Are you still working? Still playing softball? Still golfing?” And then as life goes on, “Still living in that big house? Still living on your own? Still driving? Still traveling much?”
I can no longer say when asked what I do, “I am a teacher.” I can not even say much longer that I recently retired from teaching. So I guess the question is, apart from work, who is the me of “It's Still Me?”
I am “still” a wife, mother, grandmother, daughter-in-law, organist, reader, gardener, blogger, cook, laundress, housekeeper and friend. I hope to explore some other roles along with the art museum docent in training that I have begun.
However, as one friend said years ago, “The trouble with vacations is that you have to take yourself along.” That's pretty sad and cynical, but there is some truth in it. Some of the old worries and concerns and neuroses are “still me”—working or retired.
How is it not “still me?” I am sleeping better; my blood pressure is down enough that my doctor recommended cutting back on medication; I am finding it far easier to live in the present without concerns about the past or future. I try to take each day as a gift with possibilities.
So this posting is full of me and me and more me. It's still me, but this will not be the title of the new blog.