I had an appointment with a retirement counselor at the State Teachers Retirement Association.
My God. Am I really going to be THAT "EXPERIENCED" in another year?..... or so..... There were hints. I've felt the pitying glances from co-workers for all of this past year : Sweet young things with shiny new teaching certificates, going to set the classrooms afire, save the world, and imbue the Youth of America with KNOWLEDGE.
I remember that! I was one of those sweet young things, once, myself! I had a smile on my face every morning, never missed a day of school, and thought I'd LOVE every student, they'd love ME, and every day would be full of calm, joyfully-instructed knowledge.
I got past that the day little Tammy rolled full-body down a sheet of art paper I'd laid on the entire length of the hallway floor. My excited students had used many colors of chalk to draw a picture of "Our Early City." Once completed, Tammy, adorably dressed, chose to rollllllllll down the long masterpiece, coming up tie-dyed when she finished. Three custodians scrubbed down the hallway.
The older teachers in the building laughed and tittered (old word, look it up) about "that new young thing" trying to teach fourth grade and having no clue.................
Instead of looking UP to them, perhaps I looked at those teachers with disdain. Maybe I did not appreciate their years of experience, their talent, their calm way of doing things honed by years of experience. Today I am getting that same "look" from the youngsters with whom I've been sharing the copier.
At any rate, I made an appointment and drove to our state's capital to find out if I can retire next year, or not. Who knew? Their website was elusive and mysterious. I needed a human being to explain it all. (Actually, I'd had a "human being" who "explained" it LAST year, but he did such a poor job that I was still in the dark.............)
I took twenty years off from this profession to raise my OWN children, you see. I believed that raising MY children took precedence over teaching OTHERS' children, and I still think I was right. I'd never take back those years of reading to my own kids and sending notes in their lunch boxes for anything. I tried to be the best mother I could be. I was the PTA President, vice-president, secretary, and committee chairman (not all at once), the President of the Friends of the Library, the Sunday School teacher, and anything else I could volunteer for, to help my kids' world be perfect for their learning environment.
This week, I sat quietly in the office of a very good communicator, a retirement specialist highly recommended to me. I learned about the cost of supplemental health insurance, the small percentage of my now fantastic salary that I will receive if I sign my name on the paperwork, and the little-bitty amount that will be left over after taxes. This was a shocking moment.
I didn't sleep all last night.
I was up at 3 AM, mentally budgeting this pittance. I've also now mentally removed the cable TV system from my home. I have figured out what I can save by cutting out the newspaper, the land phone, and only flushing once a day. I've calculated the cost of toothpaste versus baking soda, sleeping in the car in Walmart parking lots so I can still travel, and using McDonald's wifi. I've turned off lights all day, cut the air conditioner down one more degree, and used the speed clean cycle on the dishwasher.
OH MY GOD. Could I live like that? FEAR is fearsome, and if I continue to let it alter my thinking, it will take all the joy out of knowing that I wouldn't be getting up at 5:00 AM on frigid Ohio mornings, except for one more hideous winter, maybe.
"Off-season travel" is a truly beautiful phrase, and I think that if I utter it like a mantra, it may help me to overcome these fears. I'm muttering it as I walk, shop, and cook. It seems to be working well enough...
I've always had ENOUGH. Even when I didn't KNOW that I was not rich, I always had ENOUGH. I know that I will be OK, and still get to use toothpaste and read a newspaper............somehow.
I can squeeze a nickel until it bleeds, find a bargain on nearly anything I'm looking for, and know that I'm at that crossroad in my life when it is time to think of ME. Am I going to sign up for this? The paperwork is sitting on my desk, calling my name, softly and mesmerizingly............
Will anybody miss me if I leave my job? Will those sweet young things cheer? Maybe. Maybe not. I still have one full year to make this decision.
I certainly don't LOOK old enough to retire, right?
Maybe they'll all be shocked and surprised at my age!!! They'll talk about how they "didn't know"........., wish they'd learned more from my expertise..............miss me...........
and maybe I will write more fiction in my retirement.............
Wow! I can turn those proverbial lemons into lemonade already!
copyright: KP Gillenwater
