The Road

    I'm retired. Whether I want to be or not, the reality is I'm done. Parkinson's didn't ask me if it was a convenient time for me to retire, it just moved me out. For the past couple of years, PD has been slowly gaining ground in my life. After the school day was done, so was I. I couldn't look at another project or grade another paper. It was all I could to get up in the morning.

    When my time to step down came, it punched me in the gut. Even though it was what I wanted, it wasn't how I wanted it. I would be leaving a school I loved and students with whom I connected.

    I knew my life wasn't over.  But suddenly I felt at odds with myself.  I'd look in the mirror and wonder what someone like me could do. How could I give back?  What did I want to do? What could I do? 

    I went on sick leave in March, effectively ending my career as a teacher. A career embarked on not because I wanted to mold the minds of future generations. No, it was more practical than that. Launched into poverty when my dad died when I was seven, I vowed to be able to support myself no matter the circumstances. I took a circuitous route to get there, but I earned a double major in English and Education and gained a legit teaching license. And so I became a teacher.

    I backed into a purpose in my life. The nineteen years I spent at my last teaching position were not a job to me--they were a joy. What I did mattered. Until it didn't. Faced with an endless realm of days in front of me after I left teaching, I'd get down occasionally wondering about my future. I was at a family retirement party when it hit me. My oldest brother, who is retired, happened upon me and saw my condition. He assured me it was normal to feel a bit apprehensive about life in retirement. But, he told me, I'd survive and find the right thing to set my mind to.

    It was good we had that talk before my party as his words gave me confidence every time some well wisher asked me what my plans were for the future. What was I going to do? What, indeed, was I going to do?

  All that to say my road in retirement has been a true journey of trust. I still have Parkinson's, but Parkinson's doesn't define me. The way I choose to use my time and the way I use my talents and abilities does. I may have limitations, but the limitations don't need to have me. I'm using what I was given to make a small impact. This blog is a part of that impact. I could have ignored the inkling I had to start writing. But as silly as I thought it was at the time, it has made a difference. Maybe not in millions of people's lives, but I know of one life that has been altered by it--mine.

   I may not write with the skill of other people, but that's okay. I feel like I'm following that niggling I had. I'm trusting not in myself but in the One who leads and guides me. If my writing is good enough for Him, then it's good enough.



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