Re-Tire

Interesting word, that word "retire." Is it about sunrises, or sunsets? The dictionary defines it as "withdraw," as in to go back or get off the field. And, I think, that when people contemplate retirement, they wonder what happens when you leave that field, when you are no longer in the game. There is a guy down the street from me that is retired and every morning in the summer he takes out an aluminum folding chair, unfolds it on the asphalt of the driveway, and sits there most of the day, watching the cars go by. I've gotta tell you, if that's retirement, I think that I'll forget the chair and just go and play in the traffic.

A few of my fellow teachers have barely made it to retirement, or died before they could leave the field. There are some who have retired, then don't know what to do with themselves. They usually tutor, substitute or find another school to teach in, either part or full time and wonder why they left the field. I look at these people, my coworkers for so many years, and wonder what I should do.

I just turned sixty-four a few days ago, and, at the end of this year, will be eligible for retirement. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about that fact and wonder what I should do. If I did retire, between my pension and partial social security, I would be bringing more money home than I would if I continued to work. Financially, retirement would seem to be a sound fiscal decision for me. Many of my coworkers have encouraged me to stay, and not think about leaving the field just now. They say that I have a lot of good professional years left in me, and they are probably right. A number of students have been trying to talk me out of making this decision because I had taught their brothers and sisters (or, in some cases, their fathers and mothers) and they wanted to take my class too. While that is very flattering and makes the decision more difficult, I am reminded of Rudolf Bing, the head of the NYC Metropolitan Opera House, who said, when they asked him why he was retiring, "Better to retire when they are applauding, then for them to applaud that you retire." He has a good point. So did my father, when he used to tell me how unwise it is "to stay too long at the fair."

From day to day, many of my former students come back to see me or call me. Some of these people are in their 30's, 40's or 50's (my oldest former student will turn 60 this year. I was a child when I started teaching.) I look at them and strain, as memory fades, to remember with the same vivid detail, our relationship when they were children. Sometimes it is more difficult for me to remember than, it seems, for them. Sometimes I remember more than they do. They have meant, and still mean, a great deal to me, as they have been like my children, only they are in the thousands. And I am reminded of the last lines of the book, Goodbye, Mr. Chips, a book I used to read the last week of every August before I began each school year. At the end of the story, Mr. Chipping, an English school teacher who had taught for years in an boys private school, is dying of old age. He is surrounded by some of his former students, all adults now. They were commenting how, in all of these years, he had never had any children. "I thought I heard you one of you say that it was a pity I never had any children." He interjected from his deathbed. "But I have, you know. I have. Thousands of them ... and all of them boys." I have been lucky. I have had a great forty year educational career. So is retirement the sunset of that career?

Or maybe, is it the sunrise of another. As I look back on that word again, "retire," I wonder whether we are just misspelling the word. Maybe it refers to removing the old, bald tires on the vehicle of your life, and putting on new ones, tires with good tread for many more journeys, many more adventures, many more experiences over many more years. And with the time, God willing, there will be much more to learn on different roads with each new sunrise.