Push Me, Pull Me

 


 On 18th June I reached my 11th anniversary of retirement. In previous years I've always tried to post a reflective blog entry, checking in on where exactly I am on this long journey of exploration. This year, it simply was not possible.

Retirement has always presented itself to me in staged phases. They have not always been immediately recognisable  but with the benefit of hindsight I know that I have moved from the honeymoon period of  frenetic, hamster-wheeling energy to something slower and more appreciative. I've tried to embrace new experiences and freedom, avoid stress and make the most of every option, creating opportunities for travel, simplification, well-being, creativity  and joy. There have been downtimes but growing resilience has always pulled me through and I've learnt to embrace the quiet interludes as well as the busy ones.

A year ago, I was sharing little pearls of wisdom as I'd reached what seemed to be a contented phase of retirement. How quickly things can change and why did nobody ever warn me about the maelstrom of stress and demands that have now descended. Intergenerational pressures have been building as I share time between my grandchildren in London, but also am called upon to provide more and more for "Mam".

Unlike the strains of a challenging work environment, I have now found obligations that cannot be resolved by retiring and nor have my powers of resilience developed sufficiently to enable me to cope easily. The all-enveloping responses of guilt and duty descend together with self-neglect, hopelessness and anger, not least at a failing social care system. 

One day I shall write a blogpost about the pitfalls of dementia but for the moment it is too early. In the meantime, I can only breathe deeply and concentrate on what I can control. Some things, of course, are easier said than done.

Image by William Pomares from Pixabay 


 

 

Comments

Treaders said…
I'm so sorry you're going through this - but we are, I think, what they call the sandwich generation for a reason, aren't we. I admit I never had to care for my mom as she was in England and my sister and BIL took on most of that responsibility until she went into a very nice home, but I get the pull of the grandkids too. I wouldn't change that for the world of course but it is exhausting all the same. I feel for so many (women in particular) who then also end up caring for their partner in later life (either willingly or unhappily). Sometimes a woman's lot is just hard, isn't it!
Caree Risover said…
Thanks for your kind words, Treaders. Sandwich generation is such a great description, even if there’s more butter on one side than the other.
Jennyff said…
As someone who lost both parents before I was 35 and made the decision not to have children it’s hard for me to comment though I do recognise the pressure of your situation. After all the debacle sorting your house it’s awful that you still feel stressed and out of control, not the retirement you signed up for at all. Keep strong, what else can you do and you’ve had lots of practise. x
Caree Risover said…
You’re so right, Jennyff, in that until the house issue I felt totally in control, but since then things have begun to spiral in unexpected ways and trying to keep all the balls in the air is getting trickier and trickier. To think I thought retirement meant my juggling days were behind me!
Mona McGinnis said…
It's still work albeit unpaid in a monetary fashion. My mom passed away last Aug at the age of 91. I spent many days with her in the care home she was in. I gave myself days off, or X days, as I referred to them. Days for me. I know it's not always possible but remember to put your oxygen mask on first. Stay strong.
Caree Risover said…
Thanks for that wise advice, Mona.

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