This year is turning out to be one of massive changes. My dad decided to retire last week. He marched into the office at 6AM, and tendered his resignation, only to be told to use up his vacation, and then to put in three more weeks. Being 63, my dad retired a little early, voluntarily. While, it's nice that he was able to do so, without fear of paying his bills (as I'll be the lender of last resort), my mom was not on board. The two years of insurance costs to get to 65 before Medicare kicks in would be a nontrivial added expense, in addition to the two years of lost income. She had vehemently contended with him, urging him to stick it out for two more years. Ultimately, though, the decision was his to make.
I feel more ambivalent towards this new situation. On the one hand, I feel a little more pressure now, that my income is no longer optional. It will cause me to favor security over risk and the opportunity that comes with it, in the future. In addition, the house hasn't been paid off yet, so there will still be stress on that front for a few more years. However, on the other hand, I feel that my dad has worked more or less his fair share, has raised a family, despite rough bouts of unemployment, and has more than earned the right to retire. I feel like, as his family, and beneficiaries over the years, we don't have any right to object to his decision, especially since both my brother and I make enough money now to support our current standard of living. Though it was a bit rash, irresponsible, and incompletely thought out, the timing of his decision came within the acceptable range of retirement age, even though it was a little early. It was probably also the conservation of one last bit of pride - to voluntarily leave, rather than be involuntarily asked to leave - that led to the decision. However, ultimately, he has earned what little luxury this is, in exchange for the decades (around two) of endurance he put up with to bring home a steady income to support our upbringing.
Ultimately, I feel that this significant transition came at a time not one moment too early. I am now ready to take on this burden that my dad has carried for so long, and am even eager to relieve him of this responsibility so that he can now enjoy the rest of his life. There's only two times a baton is passed in a person's life - once when it is passed to him, and once when he passes it off to the next person. Experiencing this for the first time replaces the edge that comes from stressing out over the unknown with some comfort at being able to be an adult when an adult is needed.
