The joy of community

After being raised in a tiny 2-stoplight town in Ohio (where I knew almost everyone), I spent 37 years of my life in a major metropolitan area--in and around Washington, D.C. For 32 of those years, I lived in a small, older family-owned apartment complex in Alexandria, Virginia. In 32 years, I never had a neighbor who invited me into their home, nor did I invite any of them into mine. In my last number of years there, there were two older ladies--one next door and one across the street--who were pretty much the only people who spoke to me. I only knew my next door neighbor's name because I regularly got her mail.

When I would go out walking in my complex, I would smile and say hello or good morning to everyone I passed. Many people didn't even acknowledge me much less return my greeting or smile at me. This angered me. I thought--what is so hard about just smiling or saying hello? Why would you NOT? I never understood it and, while I enjoyed the area, it made me sad not to feel a sense of community in a place where I had spent more than 3 decades of my life.

Last year, I retired and moved to a small beach town on the Eastern Shore. My best friends had lived there for 20 years and I had visited regularly over the years. I called it my home away from home. During the years when my job and its attendant stress were taking a toll on me, this town and my friends' home was my escape and asylum from the madness.

I now live in a small condo community. Thus far (we are a new community), it is an all-adult community and predominately over 50, with perhaps 35% full-timers and 65% weekenders. For the first 6 months or so I lived here, I was the only full-timer in my building and only 1 of 3 or so full-timers in the entire community. There were moments when I thought "Here we go again." and wondered if I would ever feel the sense of community that I had hoped for; but, as more units sold, I got more neighbors--mostly weekenders but some more full-timers too.

Not quite 1 1/2 years after moving here, I finally feel that sense of community that I had craved. I love my neighbors! They are such wonderful people. I adopted a puppy last fall and the community has turned into a major "dog town." I have met most of the community before they even moved in, thanks to walking my VERY cute dog and living near the sales office. :)

I'm involved, via volunteering, with animal welfare, childhood literacy, human welfare and the over 50 population, which further gives me that sense of community--of being OF and doing FOR--and I am the happiest I have been in many, many years. When I walk my dog in this development and the next development over, people wave. Some come over to talk to me and pet Missy. I am meeting new people all the time. My dog has her community of pup pals too. :)

Change was a long time comin' as the song says...but it was well worth the wait.

The joy of retirement

Two weeks from today (on May 31), I will celebrate the first anniversary of the day I retired. I spent 37 years working for the Federal Government--the last 10 or so years in a very busy and stressful job. I hadn't planned to retire until I maxed out (i.e., until I had a high enough combination of years worked and age that my pension was as high as it was going to get, which would be another few years) but, as it turned out, I didn't make it that far.

In late 2006, I wasn't sure I was even mentally ready to retire (though I wouldn't qualify until late 2008 anyway). Shortly before my boss Frank's departure that fall, I asked him how he felt about his retirement and shared my concerns about whether I was ready to do the same. He said "Once you start to seriously think about retirement, you start leaning in that direction--and once you start leaning, it's hard to stop." By that point in my career, I knew exactly what he meant. It was one thing to be wistful and envious as many of our coworkers said their goodbyes, but to really seriously start fantasizing about being retired meant trouble.

Despite his warning, that is exactly what I did. I started to lean. I don't know if it was intentional or not. I still didn't know whether I was ready to go, but staying was starting to be a much less desirable prospect than going. In the spring of 2007, both of my staff members left for other jobs within months of one another. I held down the fort alone for several months, until we were able to hire one replacement. During this time, I got terribly sick. I was off work for two entire weeks. Well, it is more accurate to say that I was out of the office for two weeks, because I was still running things via email and phone from home.

Not too long after I returned to work, I had my mid-year performance evaluation with my new boss. I told him that those two weeks had given me a lot of time to think, and that one of the things I was thinking about was retiring as soon as I qualified (October 2008, when I would turn 55). As was my custom, I went to the beach for the week of my birthday. I drove from one condo development to the next for days trying to find my retirement home. On the day after my birthday, I bought a condo (some birthday present, eh?).

I came back to work and broke the news--I bought a condo at the beach...I can't afford to live and pay mortgage/rent and bills in both places...so I need to retire. We worked out a deal--I would move to the beach and telecommute all but one day a week, when I would drive back to the DC area and spend one day in the office. I moved to the beach on January 20, 2008, and drove back to DC once a week for 4 months, retiring as of May 31.

It is almost unbelievable to me that it has been a year--I guess this is what they mean when they say "time flies when you're having fun"! It has been a wonderful year. I am SO loving my home and living at the beach...I've kept myself busy with volunteer work and decorating and furnishing my home...and I adopted a puppy in October.

I thought I would have a tough time adapting--going from a Type A harried work life 10 1/2 hours a day to being retired--but, to my surprise, I had absolutely no problem adapting! Sure, I miss the people, but I don't miss feeling like a wound-up top every day; and I CERTAINLY don't miss traffic in the Washington, DC area, which sets new records for insanity every year.

I have a great home, wonderful neighbors, I am being of service to my community and I have the cutest dog in town (who makes me laugh every day). What's not to like?

So, if it feels right, go ahead and lean. I did, and I have never regretted it for a single minute.