100 Reasons

"I Can't Go On Forever"

In the 1971 film, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Willy Wonka tells the winner of the Golden Ticket contest, Charlie Bucket, “I can't go on forever, and I don't really want to try.”

I’ve thought about this line many times in the last few months as I have contemplated retirement from full-time teaching. Part of me WANTED to try to be the oldest living teacher on record. But most of me—that part that ached when I climbed up the 80 steps from the train platform every day—knew that it was impossible.

Who would I be if I was not an ELA or an ESL teacher? I faced a similar question four years ago when I became a widow. Who was I if not a wife? Returning to the same school, the same job, gave me a sense of stability while I tried to figure it out. I rode out the COVID-19 pandemic, learned to teach virtually, and then returned to a brand of education that no longer followed the same rules I’d embraced.

Like other things in my life, it no longer fit.

I did not make the decision lightly. I grappled with fear that my autistic son and I would starve to death without the consistent paycheck of a full-time job. Ron’s continued illnesses and medical costs did not make for a large savings account. I’d wanted to be a writer since I was nine, but was it too late to embrace that role? Would the grief journey my son and I took after Ron died—spending eight months searching for places where Allen thought we would find his father—find an audience?

Friends told me my writing was valuable. They said things such as,

“God has given you a gift”

“You have mad skills”

“There is so much more that you can do”

“People need to hear about autism and grief”

I realized that I’d needed to make many changes in my life after my husband died. New church, new roles, new bedroom set. Somehow, I had found a way. Could I do this as well?

It came down to three key points:

1. ACCEPT GOD’S PLAN

   In the last four years, I’ve become more immersed in writing and writing groups. I love working with writers, coaching writers, and editing what others have written. I’ve gotten wonderful feedback on my own writing. I’ve become more comfortable at sharing my writing. And I have come to believe, as others have said, that I have been gifted. One of my writing coaches, Ginny Ytrupp, said I was “The whole package. A great writer, an articulate speaker, and an intelligent person.” Another, Susy Flory, called me a “Born writer.”

2. CARE FOR OTHERS

   In the last four years, some of my readers have thanked me for writing about “the hard things” such as widowhood and adult autism. Others have wondered at the faith that led Allen and me on our grief journey. There is very little in the literature about adult autism and grief; perhaps my story can help someone else on their journey. And I believe I have other stories to write as well about being a spousal caregiver, living with a rare visual disorder, parenting an adult on the autism spectrum, and the challenges of widowhood.

3. TAKE CARE OF MYSELF.

   I have now entered my 7th decade of life. I am healthy—except for my vision issues—but I am also tired. Twenty-plus years of caring for an ill spouse, thirty years of teaching, and helping prepare my son for an independent life take energy. A lot of energy. I want to conserve what I have left and use it for God.

So, in June of 2024, I will begin a new adventure. I will ACT! (You did notice it was an acronym, right?)I may choose to teach part-time or take another job. I may concentrate on writing and take on more editing work for doctoral students. Or, as my ESL students suggest, I may just hang out at the beach for a while.

Photo by Ethan Robertson on Unsplash

Today marks 100 days before I retire. And as I head towards this goal, I thought it would be fun to name 100 reasons—both serious and funny—why this is the right decision for me.

The countdown begins! Check back on Monday, January 15, for the first of many reasons!

Photo by Luis Morera on Unsplash