Retirement

 

The Holder
(by R.P.Edwards)

A wisp
A vapor
The glory of man
Planning, and plotting, then covered…with sand
Wiser, much wiser
To touch the divine
And hold… to the holder
Whose servant…is time

Chunks of your life.  Segments, portions, percentages, years…and gone. 

Been a bit thoughtful of late.  Due, I suppose, to the transition our little family is going through as far as kids are concerned.  You see, it was just a brief decade ago and all, the six of them…were dependent (one, barely a glint).  But now, with ten calendars on and off the nail, the towropes to “mom and dad” are either severed, or slackening.  It’s the natural order of things, but a bit unsettling, and not necessarily in a bad way.

Today a coworker exited the building after thirty-six years of devotion to an industry that can be as hard as the product it spits out by the ton. From Nixon’s swan song to Obama’s “Yes we can!,” Ms Julia faithfully punched the time clock for decades and--being an on-floor supervisor for most of that time--she was in the unique position of enduring the constant pressures from the “planners” above…and the “doers” below.  And, although my acquaintance with the good lady was a mere fifteen years, I noticed from afar that she, like all of us, endured her own personal hardships, heartaches and injury and, like all of us…kept going.

And so, as we are again reminded of the temporary nature of this mortal stopover, I wish my former co-worker as many years of healthful freedom as she endured chained to the “job.”  Yes, Ms Julia, fill your remaining time with the things of your choosing; the deeds…of your choosing; the plans and purposes…of your choosing.  And, as your final retirement approaches (as it approaches us all), make sure your “right now” preparations make that inevitable graduation…even more joyful than today’s .

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