There I was, thinking I had my retirement all sewed up. I was learning rosemaling—I who had never painted a thing in my life had found my people! Three days a week I was tutoring fourth graders in math—I had also found some little people to nurture and who would tell me the truth about life in plain and simple language—Don’t run in the hall,” and “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
And then it hit. The Pandemic! Exciting at first, we were going back to 1918. Who doesn’t want to make history? After all, my paternal grandparents and father took a boat from Norway to the US during the pandemic, and they did okay. What’s the big deal? And if Anne Frank could hide in an attic in Amsterdam and write a classic memoir/diary about it during WWII (which we should all reread by the way), I could certainly buy two weeks of groceries and stay home.
I was teaching at the time, so I hastily put my class online. I decided that I’d need to bake bread—like 2 million other Americans—and used the only two packets of yeast I had for the first two loaves, then waited 8 weeks for a two pound package of yeast from Amazon. By then I was happily going to the store and buying bread again. Toilet paper was still dicey.
I could go on and on about adjusting to the pandemic. Suffice it to say it was a scary adventure at first, then it began to get tediously scary, and now it’s a way of life, equally scary. So what happened to the glorious retirement I was working on? Well, I’m still retired and for now at least, checks still get deposited into my bank account, and I haven’t gone under financially yet. The garden bloomed, and the weeds thrived. At first I told myself, “You’ve got this. You’re an introvert. You don’t need other people.” But I realized I could sit in front of the computer or TV or in a chair reading only so many hours a day. I missed my people, especially my little people.
It was a good summer for exercise, though. Got out on that bicycle way more than in other summers. But winter is coming. That will be its own challenge in Minnesota. And we dare not book a trip to Florida, a hot spot of Corona Virus.
By now, dear reader, you’re probably saying “Blah, blah, blah, Karen.” So, I’ll cut to the chase, as they say—why do they say “chase?” Here are my new rules for retirement during COVID, the COVID -===================dfgggggggggggvgv Canon, the first rule of which should be Keep your cat off the keyboard.
The COVID Canon
1.Teach your pets to know their place. You’re not staying home all the time to spend more time with them. They need to get over that assumption. You aren’t going to throw the ball endless times in the house just to keep the dog happy, and you definitely will not be giving them treats to shut them up (I’ve had trouble keeping that one).
2.You have only one purpose—TO STAY ALIVE (although the cat may think it’s to feed him). All the good retirement books advise us to “find our purpose.” For the first time this is finally clear to me. I don’t want to get this nasty virus, I’m 76 and I hope to someday be 86. Knowing my purpose is very freeing. No more having to find meaning in my life beyond wearing a mask, social distancing, and staying home.
3.All rules about TV are off. You can have it on during the day and no one will accuse you of becoming an old person glued to the TV. And your kids won’t know unless you tell them—assuming they are staying away. Besides, who knows, you might be watching the Minnesota Orchestra, lectures, or National Geographic—expanding your mind. Better yet, you could be watching our two candidates for president—there’s nothing like a good horror show.
4.Falling asleep in front of the TV is also allowed. Who’s going to see you?
5.Long stringy gray hair is now permitted. For men, you can have that ponytail you always wanted and that your wife said was ridiculous. And two days beard. . . well, you might be able to pull that off. And women, you, too, can have that ponytail you always wanted. . . which everyone said was too young a look for you. Who gives a rip! As for me—self-styling has reached a new low, but no one sees me. I might even take the mirror out of the bathroom.
6.Getting dressed still counts—now this is a tricky one. I still like to clean up, pick the matching earrings, accessorize! But my husband. Eew. Not sure I should even admit this, but I have counted how many days he’s worn the same shirt. These matters can be grounds for fighting, and I suggest if you’re a couple that you negotiate standards for changing clothes. But then, now that it’s autumn, you can always sleep with the windows open.
7.The rules about doing something useful in retirement have changed—although how, I’m not sure. As for doing something meaningful and useful—the point of retirement—well, you’re not going to travel, unless you know something I don’t know or have a death wish; so the number one dream of retirees has been taken down a notch. Although you could buy an RV and do a John Steinbeck Travels with Charlie sort of thing.
You can still take a class—online, of course.
Maybe you could write your memoir, or a BLOG—what a great idea! A blog about retirement—in the pandemic.
But then, if all else fails—all rules about TV are off.
8.Finally, the super big rule—do whatever it takes to outlast this pandemic! As a famous poet said, If winter comes, can spring be far behind. (This is the MN state mantra). How about To the victor belong the spoils? Or All things come to those who wait. Whatever platitude works for you. Finally, dear readers, I ask you. . .