My good friend retired US Navy Captain Earnest Castle told me the parable of the rain barrel. I had asked him about retirement and whether he suffered separation anxiety and whether he worried that the US Navy would not manage without him.
“Do you know what a rain barrel is?” he asked.
I did. We had one when we lived in the country.
“Well, dip your arm in the full rain barrel and make a fist. Then withdraw your arm, open your fist, and observe how much water you have displaced. That’s how much they will miss you when you leave.”
Funny. Bitter truth for those of us who think the ship is going to sink once we leave.
Need more reassurance that your retirement won’t scuttle the enterprise? Hear what Al Pacino has to say in his memoir. “But people are ready to move on without you faster than you realize” (Pacino, Sunny Boy, Penguin Press, 2024, p. 235).
There are numerous reasons why we can’t go home again. The main one? Now someone else lives there!
There are legitimate reasons for a retiree have concern for a former place of employment. One who has given a career to an organization has an enormous personal investment in its health and survival. Be assured that the one (or two!) persons who take your place will keep the ship on course. You were a cog, to be sure, so is your replacement.
Some retirees never look back. They suffer no separation anxiety and have no reason to “go home” again. The lucky and resourceful ones have repurposed. They find part-time employment; they go to the gym; they read; they work crosswords; they activate their library cards and join discussion groups; they learn to play the ukelele; and they become reacquainted with friends, family, and pets. They do not look back, they look forward.
Get in touch with the local government agency devoted to the needs of the ageing. A nice person may come to your home and interview you. You may not be ready yet for home meal delivery, but surely you can benefit from learning about all the services that are available to you as a retiree and ageing citizen. There is a world of opportunity awaiting. Hey, not only can you not go home again, you do not need to.
The image with this essay? I am contemplating my US Army cap worn 65 years ago in the ceremonial Third Infantry at Arlington, VA, and thinking about alma maters Duquesne, Rutgers, and USC, where I earned graduate degrees. I can’t go back there, either.
