Slouching Toward Retirement

This morning I met with my financial advisor, a very knowledgeable young man, who listens to me, makes good comments and suggestions, and I’m feeling a bit more positive about my future. This is not a good time to retire—partly because I haven’t yet figured out what I want to be when I grow up, and partly because my retirement funds have really taken a hit in these economic times. But I do need to think about it and prepare for the time I will stop working at a full time job, and will undoubtedly need to dip into retirement funds.

So I’d like to think a bit out loud here. The way I see it, I have three options. There are probably more, but these are the ones that have continued to present themselves whenever I think about retiring. The order presented is not necessarily the order of preference, as it changes with the cycles of the moon (or something else entirely!).

1. Sell my house, which is worth far less than it was three years ago, and move to a much less costly place to live. Western New York comes to mind, since I grew up there, have one or two friends left, plus (a huge plus) my son and grandson live there, plus (another big one) housing is really cheap, at least compared to the Bay Area of California.

2. Continue to live in my house in San Jose and rent out the downstairs bedroom and bath, which is sort of a suite. I had a tenant for nearly two years, who was the perfect tenant. He didn’t drink or smoke, had no parties, made no noise (unless he was laughing at John Stewart or Steven Colbert), loved my cats and took care of them when I went away for a weekend or so, was of the same political persuasion. How can I find such a person again? A serious grad student would be good, but they would leave after a year or so, and I’d have to keep looking for others.

3. There are places for seniors that are less expensive than other places; whether they’re partially subsidized, I don’t know, but a decent and affordable place can be found. The ones I’ve been aware of so far, however, are full of old people! Who wants to live with a bunch of old people?! Don’t think I’m operating under illusions here; but I am quite ambulatory, I don’t want to sit around watching TV, playing gin or any other card game with old ladies. I don’t want to take bus trips to museums with the old ladies either. I don’t feel like an old lady, but then, I know some who are but who also don’t feel like them. I mean, they look like old ladies, but inside, they’re who they’ve always been. I need to give the old ladies a break—their hair may be white (however little they may have), but if their hearts and souls are young, then they probably don’t want to sit around with a bunch of old ladies either.At any rate, I’m sure there are places where only some people are old ladies; many are people like I would be: newly retired and needing a less expensive place to live.

There may be other alternatives as well. I’ve heard that in some cities they’re building structures with, say, four apartments that are connected to common areas, so people can eat together if they choose to. The common area includes sitting areas so that people can play cards and games, or watch TV together. And these places are not necessarily for seniors, but for people who want to share resources, such as purchasing food at places like Costco, which is a real money saver unless you end up throwing unused food out.

I’ve talked with my friends about starting a system of sharing perishable food items from Costco. The same could be done with farmers’ markets. But the idea pretty much got shot down. No one wants to manage it and/or has time to manage it. Well then, perhaps a pot luck dinner each week, so that buying something in bulk would be more effective.

Anyway, learning to live on less is something that all of us can benefit from. If we can live on less and also meet some social needs, so much the better!

This is one of the uncomfortable places my head is lately—all this stuff, these thoughts and ideas run around, sometimes crash into one other, and are looking for a place to light. Somewhere, hopefully, that they can take root and grow.

When I think about retirement, I think not only of how I’ll manage financially, but also how I’ll manage without someplace to go during the week where I feel valued and have people to say “good morning!” to. As difficult as my workplace can be, I’m thankful that I have a place to be where I feel like I belong. What would that be for me once I retire and don’t have that structure? I was unemployed almost 20 years ago for about 6 months, and it was great for the first couple of months. It was Spring and Buffalo literally blooms in the Spring. I could go visit my son, who worked from home. I could stroll the Elmwood Strip, since I lived only a block away. My father needed help after he fell and had a cast on his right arm, so I felt useful for a few months. My daughter-out-law needed me to babysit my grandson a couple of times a week, and since I was home, I could do it. I could read, write letters, sleep late, stay up late. I could do anything I wanted! Until what I wanted was people on a regular basis. People I could greet and shoot the breeze with. After I interviewed for a few jobs that didn’t lead to anything, I began to get depressed. I felt useless and worthless. I had problems with friendships, probably because I was so needy. How will I handle those things when I retire?

I’d best figure it all out beforehand. The place to live, the finances, and even more importantly, how I will take care of the less concrete needs. How will I fulfill my need for people contact, my feelings of self worth, my sense of place and belonging?