The beginning of retirement, like the first day of kindergarten, is often abrupt.
Some years ago, my mother reminded me of waiting with her for the school bus on my first day. I clutched my lunchbox in a small fist as the huge yellow bus rolled to a stop at our driveway. The doors clattered open; I approached the steps, grabbed the handrail, turned and said, “Bye Mom,” then climbed aboard.
Retirement starts that way for many when they say goodbye on that last day and walk out the door. That is how I retired, and I now realize it helped me know a special kind of freedom.
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