Sunday, May 27, 2012
as i lay in bed saturday night, in search of sleep's sweet embrace, i found myself wondering what the new day, the first day of retirement, would feel like.
i finally freed myself from slumber's grip at the stroke of noon on this sunday morning. my first thought was, "you lazy bum, you've wasted half the day, half the first day of the rest of your life."
after getting the first pee of the day out of the way and seeking coffee's saving grace i fetched the paper. coffee and the sunday paper; so far, this day no different than any sunday morn in recent memory.
the phone rang. it's my daughter calling to check on "how are your feeling on this first day of retirement? do you feel any different?" after a moments consideration i told her, "it does feel different. not that i've dreaded going to work these past months, weeks and days, 'cause i haven't. but it does feel different knowing that come next thursday morning i don't have to go to work. i can spend that day and the remainder of my days doing whatever i choose to do."
come on retirement! hit me with your best shot!
my least favorite thing in the world is change. that might go a long way toward explaining why i've spent my whole career at one hospital; why the last 27 of those years were spent on the rehab unit assisting patients through the difficulties that life so often brings.
but change? i've seen a few! when i embarked on what was to become 38 years, the hospital was still using glass thermometers to measure patients temperatures. the beds had cranks for adjusting positions. blood pressures were measured with cuff and stethoscope. all that changed in short order, automated this and that, faster indeed but more accurate? i'm not sure.
back in the day, nurses, the female of the species anyway wore white everything; dresses, hose, shoes and the ubiquitous cap bestowed upon them from their school of nursing. walk down the hall of any hospital today and it's nearly impossible to tell a nurse from a housekeeper or diet tech. everyone wears scrubs! the id badge likely has a job title on it but 50% of the tags are flipped around backwards. i'm told that bsa will be switching to a new badge that has the same info on both sides. oh, yea! another change!
people ask me what i'm going to do with my time in retirement. i tell them i'm not sure but i do know that i'll not be swiping my badge every thursday, friday, saturday at BSA.
i reckon i'll just have to see what the next lap around the old clock dial has in store.
Monday, May 14, 2012
it's a dark, gray day out there again today. after last summer, the whole year really, with it being the driest on record around these parts, today is just a treat. why, might you ask? it just doesn't happen that often here, this year or any other, that we have rain in significant amounts-- two days in a row. and this on top of a very rainy day this past saturday.
this morning i heard the wife bemoaning, " i can't believe it's raining again today." i told her she should hush.
when there's a drought like we've been having around here of late, you take the rain when, and as often as it comes. one never knows, this rainy spell could dry up with the last drop of rain that falls this morning.
the dry land cotton farmer in me says, "keep it coming" and "i love you, el nino!"
Sunday, May 13, 2012
sitting here on this fine mother's day afternoon in the year of our Lord 2012, listening to dulcet tones of Bonnie Raitt's latest cd-- "slipstream", reveling in the irony of my being married nigh on to 36 years to none other than one Bonnie Raitt.
no, not the one pictured above. still she is of the same family tree but fruit of a different fork. the aforementioned bonnie of blues star fame was born to john of broadway spotlight fame. my bonnie was born to William C. aka "Bill" and wife Estelle. That would make E. my mother-in-law. I give her credit for raising a fine daughter, one schooled in the refinements of life. by extension she exposed me to things of which this dry land cotton farmer's son had no clue.
it has been said that marriage serves to take the rough edges off a man. i'll be the first to admit that these last 35+ years have been good for me.
and so on mother's day 2012 i say thank you to the lovely Estelle and to my Bonnie Raitt, wife-- and mother to our children, for all she's done for all of us through the years.
i love you; yesterday, today and for all the days to come!
Sunday, May 6, 2012
standing at the sink this morning, getting ready for the 10th remaining day on the job, a resident mockingbird is singing to the sun at the top of his avian lungs. hearing the trill "wake up! it's morning already!" in the varied tongues of the neighborhood bird species takes me back to the mornings of my early youth. In those days my dad kept a stable of fighting game cocks whose habit it was to crow in the new day long before the sun poked its shining head above the eastern horizon.
As the ride toward retirement approaches the speed of a runaway semi on a 10% grade, I think of how many sunrises separate me from those early days and those more recent along the road of my life.
who woulda thunk on any of those mornings so long ago that the last sunrise of a 38 year career could ever be just 20 days away? it just goes to show-- life is what happens while waiting for today to become yesterday and for tomorrow to become today.