I Don't Work Here Anymore!

It didn’t slam shut, but the door closed with more than its usual click. It was like a prison door closing behind the prisoner as he walked to freedom one last time. But this was no prison door. It was the door to an office where Bill had worked for 30 years. And all Bill could hear in those moments following that last click was, “I don’t work here anymore!”

His former co-workers wished him well and said they would be glad to trade places with him. But all he heard was, “I don’t work here anymore!” 

His old boss shook his hand and said, “We are gonna miss you around here.”  And all he heard was, “I don’t work here anymore!”

His secretary hugged him, saying how much she enjoyed working with him. And all he heard was, “I don’t work here anymore!”

After getting through the gauntlet of well-wishers, he made that last, lonely walk to the parking lot. As he started the car, he heard the engine come to life with the words, “I don’t work here anymore.” Bill had now entered his “well-earned” retirement.

Over the next few weeks, Bill had to face the eternity that stretched before him. The woodworking tools in the garage called out to him. The travel brochures on his bedside table beckoned him. His easy chair with that unread pile of books glared at him. His old briefcase, sitting in its place next to his desk, sat silent and empty. And with all those voices inviting him into a new life, all he could hear was the old briefcase saying, “I don’t work here anymore!”  He stared into an empty, eternal horizon.

A new voice shook him from his nightmarish daydream.

“When are you going to get over yourself?” 

These were the loving words of a loving spouse who had watched the love of her life wallow and whine for weeks. She had had enough!

“You retired from a job, not life! But you still have a life with me and the rest of the world. 

Bill wanted to scream, “My job was my life.” But even as the words began to form, he heard them as his wife would hear them. His soul began to sink. She was right, as usual.

“We are retired, together. We have things we want to do. We have lives to live. Trust me, my dear, I will not let you sit out the rest of our lives. That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Trust me!”  Those words shook his soul!

He had always trusted her. He knew he could count on her for whatever was needed that she could provide. It was not his retirement. It was their retirement. It was not all about him, and she had refused to be part of his singular pity party. Together, they would enter the eternity that reached out before them. They would count on each other as they always had. He would rely on the same trust that had gotten them through so much of the past. They would do it together.

Finally, the voice in his head began to change. “I don’t work there anymore! But we live here!”  And that made all the difference!