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My journey to retirement was an unexpected one.  I was going about my life - an empty nest divorcee working in middle management.  My relationships were the kind most people have - a small number of close friends, some good friends I worked with, a live-in boyfriend, one adult child, a sibling who lived relatively close and my parents who were physically a little further away but who I saw on a regular basis.  And then - my mom started having a pain in her hip.  The doctor thought she had just pulled a muscle but the pain didn’t go away and my mom kept pushing for answers.  Finally on a spring morning in 2022 I got the call from my mom.  She had cancer.  They thought it was pancreatic.  I was the first one she told.  I said I was on my way home.  

At the time I was working remote most days of the week - a leftover from COVID.  I happened to be in the office that day so I went in and told my boss about the diagnosis and that I was going to go to my Mom and Dad’s and stay with her until we found out what was going on.  Before I talked to my boss, I had called my boyfriend and he had said to come home, pack and get on the road.  By the time I got to our house, he had already started pulling some of my things together for the trip.  I was on the road within an hour, with the things I would need to work from my parents’ house, my personal items and my 10 year old boxer dog riding shotgun. My boyfriend was waving goodbye and telling me he would hold down things at home until I could come back.  

During the four hour drive I’m not sure what I did.  Maybe listened to a podcast?  The radio?  Thought about what I needed to do at work?  Panicked about what was going to happen with my mother? I know whatever I did, it wasn’t enough to prepare me for everything that was to come.  My mother - and by extension the rest of our family, was suddenly thrown into a world of new language, confusing information about what services might or might not be available, new portals to set up and monitor, treatments to be taken, side effects to manage.  I know it was exhausting for me and I can’t even imagine what it might have been like for her.  We had never been a real “talky/feely” family and that was true as we navigated this.  It was something to put our heads down, get through and beat.  We carefully didn’t ask the doctor about the life expectancy although in the still of the night both my mother and I were googling everything we could.  It was like we thought if we didn’t say it out loud, death wouldn’t notice us and would just pass by my mom.

Somehow during all of this I was still working at my job.  I have no idea now how I was doing it - probably not that well if I’m honest.  I FELT like I wasn’t doing anything very well and I was always tired.  I knew I needed to file paperwork for the Family Medical Leave Act but my mom’s treatments and schedules kept changing and nothing seemed certain so how could I think about filling out one more piece of paper when my mother was losing weight at a rapid pace and was literally fighting for her life.  

So of course, I shouldn’t have been surprised when my company decided to reorganize and eliminate my position - and my employment with it.  I had been with the company 30 years- most of them in full-time positions.  In fact, I had just been given my congratulatory certificate for 25 years of full-time service.  The congratulations letter with the certificate and instructions on how to select my service award gift  was sitting on my desk waiting for me when HR escorted me into the building to pack up my items.  Ironically, it had been signed by the same person who had eliminated my position.  Some of my work friends said they felt too conflicted about remaining friends with me after the reorganization and simply stopped speaking to me.  Somehow rumors began to spread about why I was no longer with the organization.  The person who eliminated my position told people that I had decided to step away with no notice. The company gave me two weeks of administrative leave and offered me an extra month if I signed a non-disclosure agreement.  While money - and more importantly the extra month of health insurance coverage -  was critical I could not bear the thought of never being able to tell what happened to me for such a small amount.  I thought my story was worth more than that.

Fortunately with my service and age I was able to meet the retirement criteria for the organization.  I officially retired and began taking care of my mother full-time.  Ironically, this was the best thing that could have happened even though that period of my life is one of the worst.  I would never trade the time I was able to spend with my mother during her last year.  It wasn’t all roses - we probably argued more that last year than any other year since I was a teenager.  After all she was dying - that tends to make one's outlook a bit dim.  I was along for the ride and trying to pretend she wasn’t dying.  Not exactly a recipe for harmony.   And then, on May 29, 2023 my mother passed away.  I was with her at the end and it was truly an honor that she trusted and wanted me to be with her in the journey from diagnosis to death.  

Lots of people have asked me what I want to do now.  Many suggestions have been made.  I could go back to work in my previous industry.  I could work in a different industry.  I could learn something new.  I could volunteer somewhere.  I could start my own business.  The list goes on and on and sometimes it feels a bit daunting.  Not only starting over but starting over without my mom seems virtually impossible some days.  So I’m starting this blog to try and figure it out.  And maybe along the way something I write can help someone else in their journey just like so many others have helped me in mine. So strap in and join me because while I may not know where I’m going, I’m sure it isn’t going to be a boring ride.

Cindy