Joy Years: My Retirement Memoir

By Robert Warren Cromey

This is my story of freedom. I loved my working life. I did not retire until I was seventy-two years old. This memoir is about the joy of free time to be creative, travel, and read. I love not having to show up. I choose when and where to spend my time. It is a great freedom to choose the wonders of not rushing around 24-7. I continue to live vibrantly well after retirement. My readers will find some helpful ways to enjoy real freedom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532034886

Robert Warren Cromey

Robert Warren Cromey is a priest of the Episcopal Church, Retired, and lives in San Francisco, CA. He holds a California license as a Marriage and Family Therapist. He is a writer and author and active in civil and LGTB rights. He is married and has three daughters ad five grandchildren

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Copyright © 2017 Robert Warren Cromey.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-3487-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-3488-6 (e)

iUniverse rev. date:   12/22/2017

I endorse Robert Cromey’s book ….

- Elizabeth Ann Cromey

I dedicate this book to my wife

Elizabeth Ann Cromey

with thanks for all her love.

I want to acknowledge and thank

the late Michelle Schmidt, who encouraged my writing

and Pamela Portugal Walatka for her copy editing and many wise suggestions.

JOY YEARS

I love being retired. I loved my work as a priest of the Episcopal Church, especially the last twenty years as rector of Trinity Church, San Francisco. I enjoyed being a preacher, teacher, celebrant at the Eucharist, liturgist, administrator, and fundraiser. Weddings, funerals, baptisms, visiting in hospitals or in people’s homes, and counseling the confused and the bereaved were moving and gave rich variety to my life and work as a priest.

In 1983 Ann and I married at Trinity, followed by a grand reception and by now a thirty-three-year wonderful marriage. Ann was a loving support to my ministry and delightful human being. The people of Trinity loved Ann far more than they loved me. She dressed beautifully, was famous for her hats and was warm and loving to all. I on the other hand was a bit abrupt, had to say no sometimes, and made decisions that some people did not like. However, most of the time I felt I was beloved and respected as leader and rector.

At this writing I have been retired for fifteen years. I have thoroughly enjoyed these years and have learned a lot about retirement and myself. I continue to grow in accepting every part of my humanity. My body, sexuality, and mind have grown and diminished over the years. I have learned more and more to be thankful for Ann, my daughters and grandchildren, friends, and the new people that I meet. I am a loyal but critical citizen of the United States. I continue to learn how to use the valuable time and leisure I have been given.

I realize that I have to find meaning for my life from within myself. Family, church, hobbies, and friends do not provide that inner satisfaction. It must come from within. On the other hand, family, church, hobbies, and friends nourish that inner self. I believe that inner self-satisfaction comes from God. I sense something far greater than myself, a sense of transcendence, wonder, mystery about the world. Acknowledging that which I call God renders me that gift of inner peace and certainty.

In this memoir of my retirement years, I want to share with you, dear reader, something of who I am, what I do, what I think about and have learned in these joyful years since I retired.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1     Retired

Chapter 2     Aging

Chapter 3     Brain Massage

Chapter 4     Geezer Sex

Chapter 5     We Die Not Pass Away

Chapter 6     Ann

Chapter 7     More Money

Chapter 8     My Children

Chapter 9     Grandchildren

Chapter 10   Retirement Travel

Chapter 11   Memories of Trinity

Chapter 12   Social and Political Issues

Chapter 13   My Religious Consciousness

Chapter 14   My Part in the Lgbt Rights Movement

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CHAPTER 1

RETIRED

The day after the splendid last Sunday as rector of Trinity, Ann and I flew to Puerto Vallarta Mexico where we had spent Presidents week for some years. The warm, moist air relaxes the body immediately. With change and heat, our muscles sag and we relax. Puerto Vallarta is a tropical large town where we rest, read, walk, and do little else. We always enjoy PV with its mix of tourism and local people gathering and walking along the Malecon in the warm evenings. We have stayed in a lovely condominium overlooking the colorful town and the blue of the bay. I reflected on the warm feelings about our send-off and the love and affection expressed to us by our many friends and parishioners.

The first thing I did when we got home was make a new calling card for myself on the computer and printer. It read:

Robert Warren Cromey

Pensioner

No address, no phone number. I was all ready for my new life as an unemployed man. I hate the cliché, I am so busy in retirement, I have no idea how I had time enough to work. I choose what I want to do. Sure, I have to do some things like shop, cook, eat, shower, shave, and take care of Ann. But I truly choose to do those things, I love to do them. It gives me pleasure to shop, I actually enjoy the process of food shopping. I don’t dawdle, I go and get what I want but I do enjoy the stores: the products, fruit, vegetables, fish, and meat. I like to look at them and I like to eat them.

Choice is wonderful. I was invited to preach in other churches from time to time and enjoyed the preparation, delivery of sermons, and the response afterward. But when Sunday night comes, I realize I did not have to begin to prepare another sermon for the next Sunday. I really like that feeling of relief and no pressure. I get to preach and celebrate the Eucharist just enough to keep myself connected to the ongoing liturgical life of the Episcopal Church.

I awaken each morning in San Francisco and feel full of strength and energy. That goes until after lunch when I tire and take a nap. I start the day by making coffee, turning on the heat, getting the paper, drinking the coffee, reading the paper, making love with Ann (every other morning), having breakfast, and getting Ann off to school. I settle down to chores at my desk. I do the bookkeeping, pay bills, attempt the checkbook reconciliation, and write a letter to an editor.

My first real project was to begin to write a memoir. Certainly my life and work have been interesting and the issues I stand for have been important in church and state. My ego is definitely involved, I want to be known, regarded, seen as significant, and to tell the world how wonderful I am. Now I know few people in the world really care all that much about my life story but I want it to be there anyway for all to read if they want to. Besides I just want to do it. So I started soon after I retired.

I chose to emulate other writers and write every day for an hour or so. The writing was easy and I enjoyed and felt sad and glad about all the memories that emerged. I plugged away at it for two years.

Having more free time and fewer things I have to do, I have more time to think about items of importance that I touched on fleetingly in my working life. Death, the divorce, and the children for instance.

I think about my own death every day. I don’t want a lot of pain so I hope my dying will be brief and pain-free. I hope friends and family will do all they can to assure that I do not live a long painful dying process. I hope that some friend, doctor, or drug user will hasten my departure if it looks like I will linger in pain and helplessness.

I do not fear the death itself. The end is the end and I hope for a resurrection, as is part of my Christian faith. The hope of the resurrection means some future contact with family and friends who have died or will die after I do. I’d love to see my mother and father again and so many friends who have already died. I have no illusions that this will happen but I hope it does.

I worry that Ann will suffer a great deal when I die. It will be hard for her to recover and resume a new life without me but of course she will. I feel sad that I will not be there to comfort her. If the dead miss the living in any way I shall be in torment without her.

My daughters will have some pain and sorrow but will move on nicely without their part-time, far-away Dad. I also hope I don’t die in a way that shocks and horrifies Ann, like dying while taking a nap and she discovers my body, or that I am injured and disfigured and she must identify my maimed corpse.

I think about suicide only if I would find myself in great pain or greatly incapacitated. I don’t have access yet to drugs that could kill me swiftly and mercifully. I must do something about that. I could not take a gun to my head or jump from a bridge or under a train or bus. I have no impulse along those lines. I am too much of a coward anyway.

When I think of death and dying every day for a bit, it is not interfering with my life and functioning, but the thought springs to mind from time to time. That is certainly part of the business of having less pressure on my mind in connection with work, schedules, writing sermons, visiting the sick, and doing parish administration.

I have completed my funeral plan and we have made our wills so those items are in order. That reminds me that both need to be revisited and worked on a bit to make sure they reflect what we really think now. As I like to say I have a hundred hymns chosen for my funeral and I have to chop the list down to three or four at most.

Shortly after we returned from PV, I went to visit Carol Craven, a woman I had a date with in the 70’s.