Remember this soap opera opening: Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives? I feel this. Hard.
I had what I think I might call a “midlife existential crisis.” It’s the kind of deep dive into the psyche that is followed by this admission: I’m afraid I’ll run out of time. Which is then followed by the kind of ugly cry where your whole body is convulsing for a few moments.
Yeah. That kind of cry doesn’t happen often.
Financial planning
As I’m navigating this extended retirement process, there are a lot of parts of it that you have to prepare to think about. First and foremost, the big, permanent financial decision relating to the benefit payment you have to make for your pension. See, there are all of these options you can choose: maximum payment, survivor options, pop-up, guarantee period, lump-sum, and so on.
The calculus is complicated with lots of unanswerable questions. How long will I live? How long will my spouse live? There’s no crystal ball telling you which is the best thing to choose. Honestly, it all feels like a financial crapshoot. If I live past 100, I want to take as much as I can for the rest of I life. If I die before my husband, what kind of payment will he need to keep financially stable?
Trying to make these decisions with a rational, level head is hard enough without going to actuarial school and betting the odds.
The reality is that I am trying to make these decisions while my natural emotions are set on fire.
It is actually quite sadistic that these permanent decisions have to be made in planning for the rest of my life. Thanks, NYSTRS.
That requisite decision leads to the next, deeper, more insidious thought: What if we run out of time? Just trying that makes my throat hurt. Thus, the ugly cry.
What I’m afraid of
My father died when he was 52. He had life, energy, and the immensely unfortunate luck of the draw when cancer shoved its way into his path and shortly thereafter won the war. My mother died at 72. Also cancer, but she battled for four years before it won. It stole four years of her life; more even, because the women in our family are typically very long-lived.
My parents loved each other fiercely, flaws and all, and they were robbed of their second half of life together.
So, it makes sense that me, the strong, independent, full-of-life adult gymnast, artist, writer etc., would be terrified of the unspeakable. Me, who spends every second of my waking hours following through on the choices that will extend my vitality and give me the healthspan to enjoy the next four decades.
Me, who has been completely invested in my relationship with my soul mate, who is also invested in his health, so we can live together and die side-by-side, holding hands when we are 99. Or 120. I don’t care, as long as it’s together.
And yes, I am terrified that that will not happen.
Moving forward
And then, I have to come back to earth, ground myself, and keep moving through this life that I continue to build with him. I cannot submit to the terror; that would make me ugly cry every day. And I will not have that.
I have to say, that moment hit me hard. It’s not being afraid of retirement, or not knowing what’s next, or anything like that. It’s about not being able to make something significant happen in the time I have left. I’m retiring from this career with what I hope is a LOT of time to do a LOT of things.
Spending thirty years in one venture is a very long time. I’ve loved it and am filled with gratitude for my career, and I recognize that there’s so much more that I’d like to do that I haven’t been able to properly explore. I want to know who I am on my own, who I am with my husband, who my kids are as their adult selves emerge, and I need the time and space to focus on that.
So, I’m glad I had that midlife existential crisis ugly cry moment. Maybe it’s necessary to more firmly entrench my resolve to cut the ties with the work life I’ve known for three decades. I’m in a massive transition period, one in which I’m trying to stay mindful and in-the-moment.
Thanks for reading these thoughts through. I’m sure some of you are in a similar spot. If you are, post a comment and let me know. It’s nice to know you’re part of the community.
What did you think?