This is Living

Dudley had spent a lot of time trying to figure out retirement. Probably too much.

There had been spreadsheets, Monte Carlo simulations, tax projections, withdrawal strategies, Social Security estimates, healthcare assumptions, advisors, accountants and more time on the Internet than Dudley cared to admit.

Eventually, Dudley and Betty answered the three questions.

What do we have?

What do we need to spend for the life we want?

How long will it last?

The answers weren't perfect. But they were close enough.

Then something strange happened. Dudley stopped thinking about retirement so much. He had other things to do.

Most mornings started with coffee. Sometimes Dudley read the news or checked the markets. Sometimes he listened to the daily homily or a podcast. Sometimes he just sat there.

Betty came downstairs eventually, usually with Jingo nearby. Borris operated on his own schedule and seemed to consider the household poorly managed.

Outside, there were flowers everywhere. Dudley had built structures. Betty had made them worth looking at.

Sometimes she would stand beside him.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

Betty would look at him suspiciously.

Historically, nothing had not been one of Dudley's strengths.

He was getting better at it.

One morning Dudley sat on the porch with Bonnie. They drank coffee without saying much.

Bonnie looked toward a tree.

Three doves sat on a branch.

"Dudley. Look at that."

He looked.

"You know what that means?"

"We need more bird food."

Bonnie gave him a look.

"No. It's a blessing."

Dudley wasn't sure God had personally dispatched three doves to Bonnie's tree. The bird feeder deserved some credit.

But Bonnie had a point.

People got sick. Kids grew up. Parents got older. Things broke. Life had never agreed to follow the spreadsheet.

And yet there they were, drinking coffee together.

Dudley still thought they needed more bird food.

Both things could be true.

Life had become pleasantly ordinary. There were errands, projects, dinners with friends and afternoons around the pool. The kids came around when they came around. Sometimes they needed help. Sometimes advice. Sometimes food.

Ray and Bonnie were getting older. Dudley noticed this more than he wanted to.

The money still mattered. Bills came. Markets moved. Healthcare remained expensive and taxes remained annoying.

Dudley still checked the one-pager. But the plan had finally become what it was supposed to be. Background. It wasn't the life. It supported the life.

One evening, Dudley and Betty sat outside.

The day had been completely ordinary. Betty had worked with her flowers. Dudley had messed with something in the yard. One of the kids had called. They had eaten dinner. Nothing important had happened. The sun was dropping toward the horizon.

Dudley took Betty's hand.

For most of his life, there had always been a next thing. Something to accomplish, solve or prepare for.

Even retirement had started that way. As another destination. Maybe that had been the mistake.

Dudley thought about Bonnie and the three doves. Maybe a blessing wasn't something extraordinary.

Maybe you just had to notice what was already there.

They had people they loved. They had enough. And they had time. None of it was guaranteed.

Betty squeezed his hand.

The sun disappeared.

Tomorrow there would probably be something to fix.

There would definitely be coffee.

And apparently they needed more bird food.

Dudley smiled.

This wasn't retirement.

This was living.