Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Wishing for Not Waiting for Retirement

By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston


I remember thinking college would never end. I loved being a college student but the six-plus years it took to get my hands on that diploma felt like forever. Then, almost suddenly, I had that degree and was faced with adulting.

No more student loans to pay the bills. No more part-time jobs to fund the beer. I had to get a job. No, I had to get a career. I had to become a grown-up.

In reality, this was not too hard because I started school late so I was nearly thirty by the time I had my credentials to be a real-life certified speech-language pathologist. Even my title sounded grown-up.

By then I was married and buying my first house. I still live in my first house. I say it's my “first house” because I fully intend on owning a second house, though probably not simultaneously. Speech-language pathologist might sound fancy, but the pay does not live up to the title.

"Why do I find myself counting the days until I retire?"


I worked hard to create my career. I studied hard and shone in my academic life. I found work that satisfied me personally and professionally. I nearly tripled my meager starting salary in my two decades of diligent and good work.

I reinvented myself from a treating therapist adding an educator, author and evaluator to my resume. I have been mentored by awesome cohorts and have mentored others in my field. I have made connections and friendships with amazing, intelligent and kind folks who have been my cheerleaders and support system.

The past two decades as a professional SLP have been extremely rewarding and satisfying. I consider myself blessed and lucky to have found work that makes me a better person and that I truly love

I hesitate to say it, but I feel like I am good at my job. So, why do I find myself counting the days until I can retire? When does that switch flip? At what point do we go from being career driven go-getters to daydreamers and schemers for permanent rest and relaxation?

"Quicker than I imagined, I'm ready for the next phase."


Wanting a career drove me through all those grueling years of college. After I walked down the aisle and crossed the stage with my gold and maroon summa cum laude sash draped over my black academic dress, the dean flipped the tassel on my mortarboard as he handed me my 100,000-dollar diploma. I was ready to tackle the world.

I wanted to be a successful professional who made a difference in the world. I didn’t want to be rich, just comfortable. I wanted to have a nice home, a family and vacations in beautiful places. I achieved those things and twenty years later I’m looking forward to retirement
Quicker than I imagined, I’m just ready for the next phase.

I don’t want to be older, I just want the benefits of being older before my body starts to fall apart more than it already has. With each creak and pop from my aging bones and ligaments, I hear a corresponding clock ticking. It used to be that career women were haunted by that biological clock ticking away. With more women having babies in their 40’s and even 50’s, I think the retirement clock looms larger and more ominous in the soundtrack of our lives.

"I know the future is unpredictable."


We are living longer which, I suppose, has benefits for some. For most, it’s not so great. We need to work longer to afford to live longer. Though science has made it possible for us to stay alive until we are 80, 90 or even 100 plus years old, what is the quality of that life?

I am witnessing the folks from mother’s generation navigate retirement. While many are having a grand time, most are spending their days off in doctor’s offices, hospitals and even worse, funeral homes. If they aren’t going to the doctor, they are taking a friend or family member to the doctor. They are burying their parents, friends and siblings.

To add insult to injury, these hardworking, money hoarding, intelligent people are trying to figure out how to pay for what their lousy government issued insurance doesn’t cover. Many have to decide what is more important: medicine for their ailments, food, mortgage, taxes, insurance, heat and the list goes on.

It’s scary!

At the relatively young age of forty-nine, I am contemplating my life and my financial choices. I am writing this as I sit looking at a view from atop the peak in the Laurel Highlands. I am in awe of the vast landscape that travels all the way to Pittsburgh more than 60 miles away. This trip is a splurge. It is something that my logical mind knows I should not be doing because we have things to pay for.

My realistic mind prevails as I know that the future is unpredictable. I have lived a hard life. I have not always taken care of myself. My future health will most likely not be good based on my choices and my love of wine and at one time my love of cigarettes. Though I live a pretty healthy life now, the damage is done.

"I will allow myself these little indulgences..."


I have a job and so does my husband. Our decent living affords us to enjoy our now. I don’t have to wait for retirement to explore the world and indulge myself for a day and a night in a beautiful locale drinking mediocre wine as I watch the sunset over a city set in a valley far in the distance.

Who knows when I will actually retire. I do know, if I wait until then to have fun and enjoy life, I’ll probably regret my missed opportunities as I try to lie still in an MRI tube or sit several times a month for hours in some doctor’s office waiting to be prescribed some pill I can’t afford.

I want to spend the last third of my life in my second house which will be on a lake in some artsy town with good food. I will relax on my deep porch or at my sunny window writing more essays or books as I watch the birds dive for the fish my husband is trying to catch from his boat in the early mornings. I will sip coffee in the morning as I watch the sunrise from our dock and red wine in the evening as it sets over our house.


Until then I will allow myself these little indulgences and even bigger ones because I can. I will float in a pool nestled into the ground at a mountain inn after sunset while I sip wine and stargaze. 

So yes barkeep, I will have another. Cheers!

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