OK, so I told everybody I wouldn’t be writing any more columns about teaching, kids, parents and retirement.

I’m a big talker.  I also said in February that I’d lose 10 pounds by June. Oops.

So, forgive me.  Ever try to come up with a new and hopefully interesting topic to write about every week?  It’s ain’t easy.

I’m sure I’ve repeated myself.  In fact, I know I’ve told the same stories at least once or twice.

You know how you humor older folks when they repeat themselves?  Do that for me, please. I appreciate it.

Here I go again. The topic? Retirement.

I have a few friends who are retiring from teaching this year, and I’ve been thrust into the role of “encourager,” sage, and so on.

But look, I’m not an expert on retirement yet, and I’m afraid I don’t have any words of wisdom that will make sense or comfort anyone.

I’ll try.

But time has given me a bit of insight and perspective. When that 49th person in the grocery store asks me “How’s retirement?” (you know I love, love, love small talk), I’ve finally stopped saying “It’s great!” and have replaced that with “I’m still getting used to it.”

I’ve told you before that I went to work almost immediately, working a part-time job to supplement my retirement income. Because, not only do I have one child in college and another one starting high school (family planning, yes indeed), insurance is a big, gigantic and costly pain in the arthritic hip.  

So, I was retired for about a month.  Even now, I have days off built into my schedule where I never had them before.  Plus, this job is not one I take home with me usually.  No lesson plans or papers to grade.  

So that’s a good part.

But I described retirement to my newly retired friends as a bit of a sore feeling. Sure, you’re relieved of so much, and suddenly in a puff of smoke, your teaching duties disappear. My friends, upon my recommendation, had everything finished and were able to walk out the door, never to return.  

One of my friends asked me how long the weirdness would last, and I told her it was still with me and I didn’t see that it would go away any time soon.  

You see, we have had our whole life planned out from January to December, every year, for the last 30-plus years. We knew when Christmas vacation was. We knew when we could schedule dental appointments for our kids and when we would be able to take a vacation. We knew exactly how many days we had to start and hopefully finish that summer project.  We knew when state testing was, when we had to have grades posted, and when parent teacher conferences were. 

We based our entire life on the school calendar.

And now, there is not much direction.

So yes, life feels a bit sore. We have decisions to make and many opportunities. Our bodies and brains feel the need for structure and goals, yet we don’t necessarily have those.  There is freedom, but we are geared for precise plans right now. And, no matter how great it feels, our psyche feels a loss and a bit of a “band aid ripped off” feeling.

Some retired friends will relate.

Sure, it’s great to be able to pick and choose what you do and when; the days of those stressful schedules are over. Regardless of the fast-paced life, it was still the life we lived for a time and transition is never totally easy.

Plus, I miss those kids!  

I often see something on TV or read something in a magazine and think “Wow, I’ve gotta tell my class” or “I need to have them mark their calendars” or “I hope my students get to go see that exhibit.”  

I also miss teasing and aggravating and making kids laugh. When I am around even a few kids these days, I feel drawn to have some conversations about what’s going on in their lives.

It never leaves you.  And for a time, retirement from teaching leaves you feeling a bit sore. I’ll say it again.  It’s a sore feeling.  

I knew a lady once who retired, reluctantly, after many years. She called herself “hard-hearted Hannah” sometimes and also stomped around the school like a pile-driver. When I was a kid, I saw her yank boys out from behind the bushes who were playing with matchbox cars. She swatted each of them on the patootie as she released them.

But she loved those kids, and she was sorry to go. I think she subbed until she was in her 80s and would have kept going had health issues not slowed her down.

I remember running into her when I started my career, and she asked me how many years I had been teaching.  I think I probably had less than 10 years at the time and my own retirement seemed a lifetime away.

She said “It won’t be long until you’re where I’m at. But that old thing they call retirement. Hmmph!  Never did get used to it!”

And she stomped in her usual jackhammer style.