Hope and Despair

“I hear a lot of despair,”  I said.

‘There’s not a lot of hope out there. Where can a person find hope these days? He said.

We were thankful for the meeting we’d attended.  The media however just spat fear and threat, disinformation and lies.  

‘I’m not riding any more,”  he said. “Used to put 20,000 a year on the bike but now I’ve got a muscle car.” He said. 

“I’m still wondering what I’m going to do when I grow up.  People ask if I’m retiring but frankly I’ve not got anything better to do.”  I said, moving towards the door and the night air.  We were all wearing masks and it wasn’t a bank or an OR.

“I’m retiring in a year or two.  The wife and I have enough.  We could want more but we’ll get by with what we have. We like our life as it is today.”  We’d walked outside and continued the conversation on the street.  It had just raine.

“I’d thought to sail across the Atalantic but I’m feeling older and don’t know if I have the strength to solo with a boat the size of mine. I thought to travel more but with all the restrictions that’s not looking that appealing.  I’d really like to go back to Scotland, maybe visit where my grandfather grew up.”

“We did a cruises of the island, Ireland Scotland.  We really enjoyed it. We like to travel.  I expect to fo more.”

“I”ve a camper and a truck and I’d really just like to drive around vistting place, writing and sitting around campfires.”

“I liked the cruise but I’d rather travel about on land too.”

“Until the borders open up again there’s not much reason to change anything. I like going to work and walking the dog,”

“Me too,”

“I still think having a sex change might be better.”

“I don’t envy the tough life women have.”

“Not the mothers for sure.  The girls have it pretty easy for all their complaining but the women,especially the mothers have it tough. I don’t regret my life till now. It’s been pretty incredible but I think whether I’d like to be an old man or old lady in retirement, The women seem to do a lot better. I’m not sure I want to be an old man.”

‘What’s wrong with being an old man.”

‘They’re bitter and grumpy.”

“Are you bitter and grumpy.”

“No.”

“Well. “

We parted then.  It was good to talk I got on my bike and rode off into the night thinking about options.  The whole ‘identity issue’ with retirement.  My identity was my work.  So if you’re going to shed an identity or role why not make a hole change.  

The Donovan song keeps haunting me. “The doctor bit was so far out.  Looking through crystal spectacles I believe I had your fun,”

I felt I did something, that what I did had meaning. I felt I’d saved thousands from suicide.  I’ stopped addiction and lessened pain,. It was never alone but part of this movement called ‘life’.  I delivered babies,  But now I’m disillusioned,  The employer said it’s “just a job.”  The ones most rewarded are the ones who save the most money and give the least. Euthanasia pays more than preventing suicide.  Abortionists are better recompensed and treated than the obstetricians,  Maybe once I I worried about being good and going to heaven and doing penance maybe. Not now, I know God loves me and I’m a good man.  But I feel duped. All the nights and years I worked overtime for free, all the service I did above and beyond, well, now I know the government took that money we saved ad gave it to their cronies and instead of more clean water, more surgical units, more health measures, they just gave their friends jobs and those friends of government are the criminals, murderers and drug dealers and pedohiless.  

I find myself questioning my life.  I’m at that ‘retirement’. ‘Identity crisis’ place.  I realize that my work made me feel I was ‘good’ but in retirement morality isn’t what it’s about.  It’s a time of survival.  We all say nice things about the dead.  Then we move on,  It’s a time of hope and despair.