Retirement is a new beginning and new beginnings allow us to unleash our power, to pave our own road, and perhaps for the very first time to not follow where the path may lead but let go of prescribed conventions and dare to forge a trail with our own footprints. 

Retirement

The day was cool, but bright and sunny. She set out wearing her low-heeled shoes, walking briskly along the sidewalk, cutting this way and that through the busy downtown Toronto streets, until suddenly she realized that there was no need to hurry any more. The thought was so stunning she actually stumbled and almost fell down.

Slowing her pace, she took the time to gaze into the store windows. She stopped at Indigo, checked out the fiction section and bought a paperback novel - something she had not done much of in her life, something she’d never really had the time to do. Before she was always busy reading the newspapers, Maclean’s, the Economist and other news journals to keep up with business related info and the news of the world. Occasionally she’d skimmed the best seller fiction list and as long as the explanation of the plot made it seem as if it would be fast moving and she figured she could finish the read quickly, she bought the book. She had developed a scheme for judging the book before buying it - the amount of white space on the page - the more white space the shorter the paragraphs and sentences, the less the book demanded  of her. She could whiz through it without a thought.

She sat at a sidewalk cafe for lunch, intending to read, but the food - a Chicken Caesar Salad and a glass of cool white wine - was so delicious, and the opportunity to eat at her leisure was such a novelty that she put the book back in its bag and concentrated instead on taste and smell. 

It was fun, too, to listen to the conversations going on at the tables around  hers. People  were discussing clothes, music, plays, parties, vacations and the occasional love complication - all topics she had not given much thought to, given the long hours she had had to put into her management position with the bank. They were all of different ages and no-one was talking about work. It surprised her to learn that people could build lives around something other than achievement and the search for success.

She was still dreading going to the concert alone, though. Because she’d never been to a matinee of anything since The Nutcracker with her grandchildren, she assumed she would be surrounded by hordes of little old ladies who would be sneaking mints into their mouths throughout the whole concert. She was right. When she picked up her ticket at the window and  handed it to the usher, the crowd around her  was mostly female and they all looked as if they had just come from having tea at The King Edward Hotel. They wore expensive wool dresses with a diamond pin or  a gold necklace. Having shed her conservative and corporate style of dress and now in her flowing  black pellazo pants, loose white shirt and large plastic bracelets, she felt somewhat like a gypsy among the elegant.

Her seat was at the side, about half way back. She slid down the row, found her place and settled in, pleased with the width of the seat, but not so thrilled with the  lack of leg space. As she bent her head to read the programme, she saw, from the corner of her eye, a man in a pale blue silk shirt coming down the row toward her. He settled in next to her, nodded, then pulled glasses from his pocket, fitted them over his nose and turned his attention to the programme. She nodded at him and did the same, but couldn’t concentrate. She glanced sideways to see whether or not someone - a wife or a girlfriend - was coming to join him, but the woman who came down the aisle and sat next to him was chatting away with a friend and didn’t even seem to notice him. 

He cleared his throat. She crossed her legs to get more comfortable and forced herself to concentrate on her programme until the conductor, a man with an unpronounceable name, came on stage and the concert began. It was a classical medley, something she had never heard before and something she decided she didn’t need to ever hear again. As a violin chord pierced the air, a resounding note pinged on her body. Uh oh - she needed to pee, NOW. She shouldn’t have had that coffee with her dessert - she knew that coffee was a diuretic, but it had been such a small cup that she didn’t think that it would have any effect. She crossed her  legs to the opposite side, hoping the change in position would relieve the pressure on her bladder. The first half of  concert was long and flutes and harpsichords picked strings that resonated up and down her urinary tract. 

At last it ended and after the applause died down most of the audience rose to stretch during the intermission. Some headed out to the rest rooms, which was exactly where she was longing to go. She looked to her left and and the elderly lady on her side appeared to be asleep, as if in a trance, slumped down with her legs stretching out in front of her, under the seats ahead. She couldn’t possibly step over her. To her right she saw the man reading his programme again.

He noticed her looking at him and lifted his head giving her a wonderful smile. “That was pretty amazing, wasn’t it?”. 

“I suppose amazing is the right word”, she paused, wondering if she should be totally honest. Instead she said “I found it a bit overwhelming”. 

“My son gave me season tickets” the man said. He turned toward her. His face was wide, his hair was thick and peppery grey, his eyes dark and large. “I’ve come regularly the past few months, and I’ve enjoyed most of the concerts, plus there’s something about attending a concert of classical music that makes me feel cultured.

She smiled. The man was definitely charming and if there was something she did know for sure in this world, it was that Fate didn’t drop an attractive, unattached man, almost in your lap every day or any day for that matter. “I know what you mean” she answered, because she couldn’t just sit there gawking at him. 

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before”, he said.

She was flattered by the implication that he found her remarkable enough to remember that he hadn’t seen here there before. “You’re right. This is the first time I’ve been to a concert in years and now I have the time because I’m retired”. 

“Well, congratulations. He smiled. “You’re about to begin the best stage of your life”.

She squinted at him.  “Do you really think so?”

He leaned toward her, talking eagerly. “Oh, yes - absolutely. I was a teacher all my life and I loved my work. Then, five years ago, my wife died, and a few months later I retired. I thought I’d go nuts. I was afraid that I would end up glued to the sofa, watching old movies and eating too much cold pizza”.

She smiled. “I’ve got my own version of that vision!”.

SSSSHH! The woman behind them leaned forward. Only then did they realize that the conductor had returned to the podium. She exchanged guilty smiles with him and faced forward, ready to listen.

This time the music was more compelling. For minutes at a time she almost forgot how desperately she needed to pee. She turned, crossed her legs, trying to find a position again that would put ease the pressure on her bladder. She didn’t succeed so she clenched her toes and bit her lip.

Finally, the concert ended. She planted both feet on the floor ready to make her exit as fast as possible.

When the man stood she noticed he had broad shoulders and was almost exactly her height. He leaned over, so as to be heard over the noise of voices. “It was nice chatting with you”.

“Yes, nice chatting with you, too”. NOW MOVE - she urged him silently.

“I wonder - would you like to have a cup of coffee?”, he asked.

“Oh, yes, that would be nice”, she quickly answered. He could have asked her if she wanted to go bungee jumping with him at this point and she would have agreed as long as it meant they would move out into the aisle. “But I have to visit the ladies room first.” 

“I’ll wait here” he told her, as she raced away.

His name was Donald Evans. They sat across from each other at a nearby Starbucks, where she ordered a decaf coffee and he ordered a bran muffin and a glass of orange juice. ”I’m diabetic”, he explained. “It was discovered 2 years ago and I have since learned to control it with insulin if I eat right. I apologize for talking about it - I know it must be boring to hear.”

“No, not at all” she awkwardly assured him.

“It’s one of the reasons I sort of gave up on dating” he told her. “I mean you’d think at my age dating would be a relatively simple matter. I’m not looking for a woman to bear my children, the kids are grown and on their own, and I’m over my mid-life crisis, But, on the other hand, I’ve had to become a slave to routine as I have to arrange my  life around when I eat, what I eat and the damned exercises I need to do everyday. I also know by now that I don’t enjoy going to bars, I’m never going to be a good dancer, and I definitely don’t want to learn to ride a horse or to scuba dive like all the internet dating profiles suggest. So, I think I’m a pretty boring date for most women”.

“Oh, I‘m sure that’s not true”, she said, cocking her head as she scrutinized him. “Most women my age aren’t really up for scuba diving”. 

He inquired about her past career, listened attentively and asked intelligent questions. He had nice teeth and a dimple in his left cheek when he smiled. 

When they left the cafe to go their separate ways he asked her for her number and she gladly gave it to him.

Walking back to her condo she found herself humming.  The sound in her throat felt unusual. It had been a long time since she had felt this happy and carefree. If this was what retirement was going to be like then she just might be able to welcome it. She’d enjoyed talking with Donald Evans. She could even imagine accompanying him to movies, dinners, other concerts. She could even envision - well almost - going to bed with him.

That thought stunned her so completely that she walked right past her condo and had to  sheepishly retrace her steps home.