During a moment of peace and quiet . . . . No, that’s wrong. Let’s start over here. During a moment of peace, while the car radio played the soundtrack of Frozen at full-speed-ahead, I found myself in muse mood. It was as if after nearly five full months of retirement I suddenly realized that I could take the time to do some things I couldn’t do while a worker bee. As I wrote the above sentence, the absurdity of the phrase “take the time” flew right off the page at me. I no longer have to “take the time” . . . as if I’ve stolen it from Dr. Who. The days lie ripe and full ahead of me to mold and meld at my pleasure. So, what to do?
My mind began to whir. (See previous blog.) A Technicolor series of short subjects flashed in front of me.
- Jane studying opera listening, learning everything from Offenbach to Wagner, Puccini to Mozart . . . and singing along in Italian and German (as appropriate).
- Jane raising orchids, tenderly caring for blooms of pink, purple, white and electric blue . . . while wearing a blue ribbon of Best in Show from the Florida State Fair.
- Jane digging into her genealogical history, finding those rascals and hardworking folk, including a long past elegant red-haired Irish princess whose throne she should contest.
- Jane writing the Great American Novel, blithely chatting plot lines and character development with new friends JK Rowling and Stephen King.
- Jane training her terrier Jack in agility trials with the goal of entering him into the Pet Olympics where he is sure to get the gold.
Jack’s Current Skill
- And, Jane fulfilling all those pre-retirement dreams of sitting by the pool reading and reading, cooking beautiful gourmet meals to be eaten by candlelight, organizing my home (this while Jordan sang “For the First Time in Forever”).
My reverie was suddenly brought to a halt by the sweet voice of my six-year-old grandson singing “Let It Go” at the top of his little lungs. And there you have it! Does it get any better than flying down the open road with a sweet little boy sharing the moment? And then I heard him sing this:
It’s time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me,
As Jordan and Princess Elsa sang this, I recalled an earlier tune sung by that little wooden philosopher, Pinocchio:
I’ve got no strings
To hold me down,
To make me fret, or make me frown,
I had strings
But now I’m free!
There are no strings on me.
Thank you, Disney studios. I believe I now have my retirement mantra. Silently I play this little mantra in my brain, all whirring at a standstill . . .
Freedom . . . freedom . . . freedom . . . freedom . . . . . .