Early in our careers, we’re excited to have a job and, more importantly, a paycheck. We might change career paths over the years, but there’s a big payoff at the end – retirement.

Our daydream is sleeping late and drinking coffee on the porch instead of being squeezed into a cubicle. In retirement, the dream is to do what we want, when we want and nobody’s bossing us around.

Magazine and television ads show genteel people in retirement, their beautiful white hair perfectly groomed. They’re often wearing a sweater draped around their shoulders as they ride bikes through Italy, climb mountains or drink champagne while admiring the view from the deck of a cruise ship.

Those scenarios are certainly true, but there’s other things about being retired that aren’t shown in print ads.

That beautiful white hair? Only a few people are blessed with those genes.

The rest of us have battleship gray hair with a mind of its own if it hasn’t thinned or fallen out.

Sweaters are necessary because we’re cold all the time. Forget cashmere – we’re wearing an old sweater we’ve had for years because we’re too smart to buy something strictly for looks.

Like a cliché, the music is too loud, and we can’t understand why this young generation believes morose and meaningless lyrics are worthwhile.

But then we remind ourselves that every one of us knew how to play “Wipe Out” with pencils on our school desk.

I see retired people exercising, either online or at a fitness club. Pilates and yoga classes are pretty popular among the over 60 crowd.

But let’s face it. If I vacuum too vigorously, I could throw out my shoulder, and my elbow aches for an hour.

I look at the dust on the ceiling fans and tell myself those blades need to be dusted. That chore requires me to get on a ladder, and there’s no way I’m climbing up a ladder balancing a cleaning wand.

Forget late-night snacking. In my younger days, downing a Coke and a bag of Doritos at one in the morning was no problem. Now, caffeine keeps me awake and eating anything that spicy is a message for acid reflux to come calling.

Forget skipping and running. Bad knees and arthritis require that we not only walk, but having a cane or a walker is often a necessity.

We fuss at people who drive too fast because we’re putting along in the right-hand lane. We get in the left-hand lane if we have a turn coming up, even if it’s half a mile away.

When I find myself muttering under my breath about reckless drivers, a voice in my head reminds me to find “Born to Be Wild” and play it. I’ll pull over, queue up the song and blast it on the radio.

Just because we’re retired and eating dinner at 4 p.m. doesn’t mean we’ve given up.

We’re sensible.

We drive slower because our reflexes aren’t as sharp as they used to be. That makes us smarter than we were in our 30s with a stack of speeding tickets.

We don’t climb on a ladder because nothing’s worth bruising a hip. That dust can stay on those ceiling fan blades until kingdom comes for all I care.

One day, I might find myself on the deck of that cruise ship. But being older, I know I don’t have to go back to work in a few days.

I don’t have beautiful white hair, but I have the freedom to color it, let it go gray or shave it all off. There’s no one I have to impress and there’s no dress code in retirement.

I’ll vacuum when my arthritis isn’t flaring up and, if I miss hauling out the vacuum cleaner for a few weeks, so be it.

I take the trash to the street wearing a robe and slippers, and I only wear make up if it’s absolutely necessary.

That’s what retirement looks like for me.

Time to sit back, enjoy the view from my air-conditioned living room window and look back on the mistakes and accomplishments in my life.

There’s still time for making more memories. I have time for friends and family, time to enjoy the things I enjoy, skip over what I don’t like and smile because I know the difference.

Maybe that’s what retirement’s all about – realizing what’s really important.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.