Successful Struggle

One of my favorite parts of visiting retirees is to learn what they are reading.  I was not disappointed as I started my visits in January.  The first retired pastor I visited was reading The Beautiful Struggle by Ta-Nehisi Coates,  a black correspondent for the Atlantic Monthly.  She thought it was even better than his more recent book Between the World and Me, written in the form of a letter to his son.   I was immediately captivated by the title.  I can only imagine the struggles of a black man so the word beautiful truly jumped out at me.

The next day Richard and I stopped to spend the night at Joshua Tree CA on our way to Phoenix.  We arrived in the late afternoon and had time to take a couple of short hikes in the Joshua Tree National Park.  Along the trails were signs giving information about the desert.  I couldn't believe it when I saw the title of one, "Successful Struggle."  There was that word again, this time paired with the unlikely word "successful."

The Beautiful Struggle... Successful Struggle... I've been thinking about struggle in terms of retirement since the word and it's unusual descriptors decided to bore their way into me.   The sign in Joshua Tree National Park mentioned adaptation as a means of survival in the desert.  As the area grew more arid it was the plants and animals adapting to the desert rather than fighting that survived in the increasingly harsh climate.  After referring to some of the ways the plants and animals adapted the sign concluded with this sentence: "Each is an example of survival, a small miracle, and a valuable lesson."

We have many, many retirees who are like that - examples of survival, valuable lessons, and even some small miracles.  I thought back to Lois Palches, a poet and essayist.  Lois and her husband Peter lived in an apartment at the Deaconess in Concord MA (Now one of The Deaconess Abundant Life Communities) and I called on them regularly.  One day Lois passed along an essay to me, the title I've forgotten, but the theme was adaptation.  She wrote about how much they loved to entertain. Lois, in particular, loved to cook and bake.  So when they first retired they regularly had friends over for dinner.  However, as they and their friends aged she found that it was more and more difficult for them to drive at night, so she adapted.  They began having friends over for lunch.  With great style and humor Lois continued to tell the story of adaptation as she noted they got older more and more often their friends wanted to leave early to take an afternoon nap.  She responded by inviting friends to brunch.

I also think of Betty Stahl, who I called on along with her husband Roland in Rhode Island.  When she was at risk of debilitating pain from arthritis she decided to try Tai Chi.  She not only learned Tai Chi but went on to teach it.  After her husband Roland died she started mowing the yard with a hand mower.  Each morning she would go outside and do a small section. She adapted so she might live fully.

I remember one of my later visits with Lois.  They had moved to an assisted living apartment and she no longer had access to an oven; she greatly missed being able to bake.  It was in this new time of adapting that she came up with an idea for her epitaph, "The loaf of my life has tested done."  I loved it!  Lois died in 1998 at the age of 93. 

I know my own struggles, most cushioned by white privilege, don't compare with those of Ta-Nehisi Coates and I've never faced the life and death struggles of the desert, but I do understand that the aging process will bring struggle into my retirement years.  As I consider the struggles of so many retirees visited over the years I realize that many can be described by the words "beautiful" and "successful."    So I am thankful for Lois and Betty and so many others.  I am blessed by the valuable lessons of their lives. Who are those who have blessed your life with valuable lessons?

A vision for retirement

Sunrise looking east towards Phoenix

   It’s my second day catching up after my two week jaunt through California and Arizona.  I traveled 1,377 miles which included the Los Angeles area and south, Phoenix AZ, and just outside San Francisco CA.   One of the visits in AZ was a little Northwest of Phoenix in Sun City.  When looking at the History of Retirement, Sun City is a significant part of the story.

You see, in 1960 a new idea emerged as Del Webb built 5 model homes in Sun City AZ just outside of Phoenix.  On January 1^st of that year thousands came through to see the homes and the sales began.  In the first year 2,000 modest homes sold for $8,500 to$11,750.  Webb had a vision of an active community for those 55 or older.  And people responded.  

I get the impression from reading about this first "retirement community" that it was promoting a leisurely but active lifestyle that accented sports like golf, tennis, and bowling.  It has gone through changes over the years and what I saw was an area filled with far more than one retirement community.  An article in the "Arizona Republic" notes that Sun City is reinventing itself as it continues to attract retirees – now the Baby Boomer generation.  The modest houses are being bought and renovated and newer, updated homes continue to be built.  The median price in Sun City is now up to about $130,000.  The article said golf courses are less crowded and the bowling alleys are not used as much, but new activities are taking their place.  

Someone retiring in their mid to late 60's may live another 30 years, so interests have changed.  Now you will see retirees on the golf course, swimming, and maybe bowling, but you will also see retirees out hiking, jogging, and participating in more strenuous sports.  They're also finding ways to continue learning.  Our churches can be a significant part of this more "active" retirement as our elders seek out mission trips, service projects, volunteer opportunities and other ways to be involved in their local community and beyond.  Spending time with extended family is also a priority.  I met retirees and surviving spouses who originally moved West to be near grandchildren as they grew up.  Others moved out later in life to be near adult children who could assist with their care.

I loved hearing about the lives of those I visited.  Their interests filled a wide range from promoting racial justice to caring for good friends dying, from watching a grandchild regularly, to writing a memoir, and from horseback riding to staying active on the computer. 

I found a definition of retirement: “the action or fact of leaving one’s job and ceasing to work.”  It may be true that whether we are pastors or plumbers, lawyers or food servers, house painters or managers, teachers or janitors, we will cease working one day and drawing a paycheck.  We are more than our work, however, and I think we have to figure that our before we retire.  I'm thinking about my own dreams and hopes - how will they help to form a vision for my retirement?  

I saw a Snoopy cartoon this morning.  Charlie Brown  is pointing out to Snoopy that one day we will all die.  Snoopy comes back with "True, but on all the other days we will not."  What will give meaning to all those other days? 

Blessings,  Cathy