Retirement: The First 30 Days

By Alice Joiner

She has not been in this place before. The journey did not take as long as she had thought it would when she was younger. This place where she now found herself at the end of a short road was her new canvas. She wished that it had been a much longer journey, filled with many more years surrounded by children's laughter, as well as endless romantic nights with her husband, but here she stood, alone, at this new crossroad. Although the children were all grown, pursuing careers of their own, and she was no longer married, she found it was peaceful here as she embarked upon the unknown filled with endless possibilities.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638814344

Book preview

Prelude

There Is Life in You Still—Grab Hold

Many of her retired female friends struggle with maintaining a place of existence and purpose after retirement. Their children are grown. Their career, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, has come to an end. Throughout the first thirty days of her retirement journey, AJ found herself for the first time exhaling, accepting that she was alone to make choices and decisions for herself without concern of what might be required from her by a mate or small children.

Once she had accepted that she was the original navigator of the paths she had led her family through, she became emboldened in the belief that she could now do the same, without cargo. It was now an option as to which port of calls she would stop at and whom she would allow to enter her life’s vessel.

Her only objective past the first thirty days was to live for as long as the Supreme Power allowed, one moment at a time.

Day 1

She awakened early to the sound of stillness, if there is such a thing. The only audible sound was that of the silver ceiling fan adorned with teardrop ornaments at its center. Through the crack in the blinds shone the twinkle of dawn. Dawn that was inviting her to jump out of bed, for this was the first day of freedom. But this would mean surrendering the warmth that had accumulated between the sheets, as well as the comfort of her pillow, filled with a matter that she had sunken deep into as she lay on her right side, facing the morning rays.

Rolling over onto her back, she could now feel the urge to make a morning bathroom break. Instead of giving in to the urge, she elevated her knees, clutching tightly her thighs to curb the pressure against her urinary tract. Successfully, she was able to buy more time as she lay there, staring up at the blades of the fan as they rotated on a low speed.

Feeling consumed by thoughts of this long-awaited day, she nostalgically drifted back into time. A time when she was a child, living at home with her mother and siblings. She could still recall the prayer her mom would send up for them, as they stood, holding hands, as if corralled by her tear-filled, merciful prayers for spiritual covering over each of them. The thought alone brought a smile to her face.

Still feeling the pressure to make a bathroom break, she rolled onto her left side. Reaching in the direction of the nightstand, she picked up her phone, along with her bifocals, and opened the Facebook app. Feeling inspired, she posted her morning thoughts:

Today starts the beginning of my next life chapter. One that I am truly grateful to see manifested. It is not filled with overwhelming thoughts of caring for anyone else, only a calming one of caring for myself. My desires. My needs. I must praise myself for the fights, the wars, the determination to forge forward when my kids had no knowledge of the anvils anchored to my feet. We made it through because it was predetermined that we do so…for this I am eternally grateful. Especially grateful for those quiet moments when I had to ask myself, What would my mom do? Then, the answers would come. She prayed without ceasing with her never-ending song bellowing through her lips, for all the times I had with her, on this side of life, Brighter Day Ahead. At this stage of my life, I feel that mom was in mourning at many stages of her days, for which I can now see the possible reasons why. This next journey into uncharted territories will be by my choice, not out of survival mode. I Will Survive (digging on that song at this moment)…my way. Thank you, Mom, for sharing your light, lighting our path, even through turbulent waters. Failure was not an option… We Failed Down but We Got Up, just to reach this destination. The sun is bright today…that’s enough.

Jumping from bed, she threw the covers in place, hurriedly placing the throw pillows in their familiar positions before heading into the bathroom to perform her morning ritual. First, she would light a petrichor candle and turn on the exhaust switch before finding a sigh of relief. Afterward, she requested of Alexa the morning forecast, prior to requesting a tune of the day. She never knew what mood she would be in from morning to morning. However, on this morning, the first day of freedom, she began with I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor.

Taking her electric Sonic toothbrush from its perch, placing a sliver of toothpaste onto the bristles, then powering it on, starting at the left side of her mouth, moving it slowly in circular motions, she began singing alone, skipping over words as she made the adjustments over the humming device. Midway through the song, she spat the paste out, cupped a handful of warm water, and began swishing it around in her mouth. She then cupped three more handfuls of warm water, swallowing each one to ignite a warmth within her belly.

As she turned toward the glass shower door, she opened it to flip the handle upward so the water could flow, turning slightly to the left to obtain her desired temperature, the song was coming to an end. Before stepping into the shower, she turned in the direction of Alexa and requested Born Tired by Jhené Aiko. There was something about the melody that brought about a calmness to her morning routine.

She could still hear the words over the falling water that flowed through her waterfall-style showerhead.

Standing amidst the falling water, she felt warm as the water flowed from her head downward to her toes. Stepping away, she reached for the wash towel, onto which she squeezed a pile of soap; then she slowly began washing over her body.

Although she had turned sixty-two some four months prior, her body still had a few curves remaining. She was not physically toned, but her muscles retained some memory from her athletic days. Slowly, while enjoying the warmth of the water and the song still playing, she caressed and washed over each curve and crease. She remained there under the waterfall about another minute or two after the song had ended, enjoying the pellets as they rolled down her neck, her back, her buttocks, and her hips, before reaching the heels of her feet.

I am not in a hurry, she thought to herself. This feels good. She turned to press the shower handle inward to cease its flow. Reaching up, she pulled the oversized towel that overlapped the top of the glass shower wall to her left, draping it first over her soaking-wet hair, then applying pressure to absorb some of the water. While still inside the warm walls of the shower, she wiped over her entire body before stepping out onto the cotton-plush-pile carpet positioned at the base of the shower stall door. Closing the door behind her, she leaned over to wipe her feet and between each toe before standing, as if at attention, to face the mirror above the sink. She wrapped the towel around her body.

Stepping toward the mirror, she retrieved her Neutrogena moisturizer from the shelf at the mirror base, twisted off the cap, and took a small amount on her fingertip. She slowly applied it to each cheek and down the center of her neck. Returning the moisturizer back to its home, slowly, in circular motion, she gently spread the dabbing over her entire face and neckline until they were no longer visible. She then reached into the drawer that held her deodorant and makeup supplies (which had not been in service since the beginning of the pandemic). She removed the cap in a seesaw motion and applied the product under each arm before placing it back into position in the upper drawer of the vanity.

Returning to the bedroom, she sat on the bench at the foot of the bed so that she could apply lotion to her still-moist, deep-chocolate skin. She always gave extra moisture to her heels and elbows for they had been known to display a bit of ash if not well moisturized.

She replayed the weather forecast she had heard through the Alexa app; the temperature would be high, around sixty-seven degrees, although now it was forty-five degrees.

Rising from the bench, she stepped into the walk-in closet to retrieve a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a light sweater. Today, layered day, she thought while smiling to herself. Well, it is Oklahoma; one never knew what the true weather would be in any five-minute time frame.

After getting dressed, she moved into the kitchen and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl. Before peeling, she started a pot of coffee. As she waited for the brewing to complete, she leaned against the sink and peeled the banana while staring out the back-patio door at the beautiful sunny day.

Thoughts of plans for the day were disrupted by the sound of the chiming coffee pot, alerting her to the completed brewing. Opening the cabinet door beneath the sink, she disposed of the banana peel before reaching to retrieve the travel cup from beneath the spout of the brewer. She then went over to the refrigerator, removed the creamer from the door, and returned to