Sunday, March 2, 2014

On the Occasion of My Dad's Retirement



Dad on his 88th birthday
On Friday night, my parents and sister came to our house for dinner. I meant to have a cake or something special for my dad, because it was his last day of work, but somehow dessert never ends up factoring into my meal planning. I'm not sure he really felt like celebrating it, though.

The truth is, I can't quite imagine my dad not working--and not because he's a workaholic, or because his identity is tied up in what he does for a living, but just because he likes to stay occupied and he likes having a place to go and seeing new people.

Nine years ago, we had a retirement/birthday party for him, but right before the party, he decided that instead of retiring, he would just cut back to part time instead of retiring. He was 80 then, and I think he was hoping to keep working until his birthday this year, when he will be 90. So if anyone deserves to kick back and take it easy, it's my dad.


Dad with my grandpa, circa 1945
I don't know what Dad's hopes and ambitions were for his life when he was a young man, but probably he assumed he would keep farming the land that he and his father had been farming--and he was doing just that when he met a young nursing student at a church singles' group. They married soon after she graduated, and he was past 40 when three children came along.

I've often wished I could know what went on in the conversations that took place in which my dad was convinced to leave Indiana, the only home he had ever known, and go out west, with no particular town in mind, with the object of finding someplace they liked where there was a motel for sale. I have my ideas of how that went, but even if I were to ask them now, I don't know if I would find out the whole story. But in any case, we ended up in Durango, Colorado, the owners of the Alpine North Motel on Main Street. And then we ended up in Peru for a couple of years, where my parents were sort of "temp missionaries." When we came back to Durango, we didn't have the motel anymore, but there were two mini storage businesses.

And then, in 1978, we moved again, this time to Asheville, NC, where my parents still live. They were small business owners again for a little while, but it wasn't a good fit and didn't really work out, so my dad went out and got a job.

When I was 12 and he was 54, he started working as a locksmith at Alan Shaw Company. I remember him bringing home the cylinders and pins and showing me how to put different sized pins in a cylinder lock and how a key is cut to match the pins so that it will open the lock. For 35 years, he's been keying locks and installing them, working on projects big and small, in people's homes and in schools and hospitals.

It may not sound like a very exciting job, but one of the beautiful things about my dad is that he always found something interesting about his work day--someone he had spoken to, or a new route he had discovered while driving to a site, or the particulars of the job itself. When my son and I lived with my parents for a while after my divorce, we all ate dinner together in the evening, and he always had a story about his work day.

Dad with my son, planting his small garden patch
It is rare, going out in public with my dad, that someone doesn't come up and speak to him--and often it's someone he's met on a job site. These days, he's more likely than he used to be not to remember who the person is, but they never know it, because he greets them all in the same friendly way. But these are the people he would talk about at dinner--the janitor whose wife was battling cancer, the contractor who knew a guy Dad went to high school with.

A book could be written about the lessons to be learned from a guy like my dad, but I think the thing I admire the most about him is his absolute contentment. A couple of weeks ago I got a fortune cookie that said, "Discontent is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation." I understand the truth of that in terms of the big picture, but in terms of daily living, my dad's quiet contentment with his lot in life is, I think, the way to really live.








22 comments:

  1. On the occasion of my Dad's retirement is a heart-warming piece. You reflect the view of many that this is an occasion often viewed with mixed feelings. I expect that even after retiring from conventional work his evident positive outlook and concern for others will keep him well engaged and occupied. Perhaps he will visit Canada ... after all 89 Fahrenheit is only about 32 Celsius. Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Paul. I love the Fahrenheit/Celsius idea!

      Delete
  2. I like reading about your dad. Touching. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I applaud him for staying with it as long as he did. What a journey they and you had along the way. It shows how much he loved what he did, the people he meet and the fun experiences he had along the way. You're Dad sounds like he was an amazing parent and mentor. You are very lucky.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Indeed I am, Susan. I certainly couldn't have wished for a better father!

      Delete
  4. Would you stop making me tear up? Your dad sounds almost as wonderful a daddy as mine was. Hug him for me, even though we've never met, and enjoy every minute you have with him. A large part of contentment, I think, is appreciating what you have before it's gone. God gave you a huge blessing in your father.

    ReplyDelete
  5. What a wonderful post and testament to man who was a rarity in that he found contentment no matter what his location. I can't tell you how much this struck me, as so few ever realize the beauty and peace that brings. To me it said volumes about a man who found integrity in who he was, and didn't let himself be defined by what he did. Loved this!

    ReplyDelete
  6. As I'm coming up on my 45th birthday, my first thought, of course, is that I'm getting old. But then I remember that Dad was 45 the year I was born, and he has certainly lived a lifetime since then! So as long as I can keep that focus, I can start out 45 with a young outlook. Relative to Dad, I can always keep myself young. I only wish I didn't have 44 more years until I could retire...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Carolyn, I was thinking about the piece you wrote about everything Dad did after he turned 40 and posted it when you turned 40. Do you still have that?

      Delete
  7. That was a beautiful post. Your dad sounds awesome.

    ReplyDelete
  8. That's incredible to keep working for so long. But if you enjoy what you do more than other things you could do if you stop working then why not.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Your father reminds me of my parents who would engage with a member of the Royal family (they did once meet Princess Margaret when my father was an exchange teacher in England) with the same level of engagement and respect as they would with a janitor or home health aide. I had the same experience you do when I would go somewhere with my father -- many people would come up to say "hello". Also, I didn't change my last name when I married and countless people see my somewhat unusual last name (for the Philadelphia area anyway) and ask me, "Are you related to Bob Fluhr?" My father had a special relationship with our sons. I'm so glad they had a chance to really get to know him---even when they came home and told us, "Grandpa said you're too strict."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sounds like our dads would have gotten along marvelously, Suzanne! Yes, that's exactly how my dad is--it doesn't matter who you are, he'll treat you just the same, whether you're Princess Margaret or a janitor. It's a great quality to have!

      Delete
  10. What a champion your Dad is working for so long! It was great to read about the history of your dad. I bet he has plenty of interesting stories to tell you.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Fantastic and fascinating story about your father. Congrats to him on his retirement, seems to have earnt it ;).

    ReplyDelete
  12. Your dad sounds like a hardworking man. Congrats on his retirement.

    ReplyDelete
  13. I can't think of a better word that I'd like my own attitude to be summed up with, than 'contentment'. What a blessing to have a dad like him in your life, and thank you for sharing a little bit of him with us!

    ReplyDelete
  14. Nice, personal story. Congratulations to your Dad and I hope he finds contentment in having time for himself, hobbies, or whatever else he cares to do!

    ReplyDelete
  15. Lovely tribute to your dad. I understand. I retired ten years ago and then I got tired of being retired and have 2 new businesses now.

    ReplyDelete
  16. You Dad is inspiring. Thank you for sharing this post about him!

    ReplyDelete
  17. How touching reading about your dad. I can only hope to continue working and being productive as long as he has. My dad retired at 55, and my father-in-law was a similar age, so I'm worried I only have about 15 more years of work ahead of me- so much to do, and so little time! Your dad is inspiring, and your love is touching.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Hi Sharon,
    What a wonderful story! Your father was not only dedicated, he knew the secret of being happy in what he did... to find his work interesting. Sharing this also really says a lot about you and I'm happy for you. I retired after nearly 32 years in the police department.

    ReplyDelete