Activities Born of Retirement, or is it Bored of Retirement?

It would seem that the modern age is capable of assimilating the concept of a “stay at home” father, however I continue to face two questions time and time again.  The first is an inquiry as to what I do for a living.  Rather than place them into the wonderland that is our family’s concept of gender roles, I simply respond that I am retired.  Strange though it may seem, for most people, the concept of a man being retired at 37 seems less confusing than a man of the same age making the decision to abandon a legal career and stay at home to raise two children in favor of a change in his wife’s career.  The statement regarding retirement isn’t met with the same awkward silence as the alternative and I have found that it often garners a moment of envy from those I speak with.  The question that follows is the same regardless of my stance as a stay at home father or a retiree, and in turn my response is the same.  They inevitably ask how I fill my days.  They ask this very forward question and it invariably causes me to marvel at each person’s concept of time.

I typically reserve my editorial comments and simply respond with the laundry list of activities that any stay at home parent is well familiar with.  Between these duties, I do my best to endeavor into the arts whenever possible and that passion is causing me to need an agenda book to organize the sheer number of activities that I now try to jam into a “working” day . . . language lessons, guitar lessons, writing when I can, painting when I can and contemplating the meaning of life when I shouldn’t.   This description meets with the same mixed response I receive when I fluctuate between retiree and stay at home dad.  Those that believe me to be retired are interested and greet the answer with a kind smile.  Those that believe I have abandoned a career turn a cold shoulder and treat my current calling with less respect than my prior endeavors in the legal profession.  Those that hear I am a stay at home father inevitably ask if I miss working (there is a notable lack of perspective there if one believes that staying at home is not “working”).  Those that hear I am retired never ask such a stupid question as the answer of “no” is implied by the act of retirement itself.

Sure, if I gave it any thought (which I don’t), I would suppose there are things to be missed about my lost profession.  That being said, I am reflective enough to know that there isn’t a force on heaven or earth that could cause me to regret the latter for a loss of the former.  Time is a gift, and regardless of my current concept thereof, I choose not to waste it with contemplation of the road I did not travel.  Perhaps I will pass this way again someday and see where that other road leads, but for now, it is not the path that I must follow.  Although I have so much to say that it boggles my mind, I must cut this entry short in favor of other endeavors.  I have a new found joy in the words of others and have released my death grip on the concept that the only words worth dissecting are my own.  That being said I have a book to finish, laundry to fold, toilets that need cleaning and calloused fingers that need to remain calloused for Stevie Ray Vaughn’s sake.  We will speak again soon.  R.