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I retired on a Friday. I thought of it as the last day of my former life. This is one way my mother might refer to some segment of her life that was part of her continuum. It is part of the timeline, lifeline, that has brought her to the present. Friday was that kind of day in my life. It marked an end point and a starting point all at the same time.
I stopped work at 3 pm. I got to leave work early. I didn’t have to make up an excuse. I had to pass my equipment over to my boss who had to leave early to pick up his son. He created the excuse. His son was in the process of getting a driver’s license. I was glad he hadn’t gotten it yet; gotten it before my retirement day. To have done so, would have delayed my transition from one segment of life to the next.
If the truth be told, and this is necessary sometimes, the first day of the rest of my life was officially declared on the first Monday following the Friday. It was on this day that I realized I didn’t have to sit in front of my computer, read emails and respond to any number of inquiries that lent a sense of importance to my being. It was on this day that I received confirmation that I was replaceable, much like a driver’s license would replace my boss; my former boss.
On Tuesday, the second day of the rest of my life, I slept in. On Wednesday, I woke up on Thursday. On Thursday, I logged into my bank account to see if I had been paid, only to realize that it was the wrong Thursday. When I got to Friday I was ready; ready to start the rest of my life.
Truth be told, I did not spend the first week of the rest of my life like this. I was too busy.
On the Friday I retired, I also received a phone call from the respirologist. He had the results of a second CT scan taken on Monday of the same week. The spot on the lungs that had raised concerns, had changed in size from 2.2 cm to 8 mm. No biopsy, no scalpel cutting out some chunk of flesh. Dying before my son’s next birthday leapt out of my mind and got lost in the rest of the universe. I could now look to a future full of driving my son to his appointments, except I didn’t drive. I didn’t want to drive but I sure did want to spend lots more time with my son and my wife, the Rabbi.
When I shared the results of the latest CT scan, my wife declared, through WhatsApp, “You’ve got to be the weirdest patient . . . overall that’s good news . . . Now just come home!” I liked the last part. I was being told to come home. I spent the next five days in preparation for the first day of the rest of my life, or as my mother-in-law might prefer, another day in my life; another day on the continuum, only this day would be in Mexico.
I arrived in Mexico on the 13th of March. After clearing customs, and here I’ve always felt that Canadian Customs could learn a thing or two, I stepped out into the arrival area where several members of my family stood waiting to receive me in their arms. Well that’s not exactly what happened. My family was in Coatepec, a taxi ride; bus ride and taxi ride away; and by the time I got there, they would all be asleep. I would have to wait until the next morning for them to receive me in their arms. Which, as you may by now think didn’t happen, did. Ya, I was surprised too!
Being in Mexico with my family is what I considered the first day of the rest of my life; the next chapter of my life. From here, I shall tell stories as they happen, or perhaps as I remember them happening. Please join me.
wonderful enjoy your time with your family God bless
Miss you Robert. Keep it up.