Working at 70

My Mom had applied for, interviewed, and received a teaching position in west somewhere ... either Arizona or New Mexico. This was last summer, and this was before my Dad had to have surgery on his neck. My Dad had just lost his position at the real estate company, and he was rather down about the whole thing. He had to turn in his company car, and then Mom decided that she would look for a job herself. At the time, she was 69. 69 always sounds alot younger than 70 to me. I don't know why.

So she applies for a position on a Native American reservation... I think it was Arizona because she was going to be an hour or so from the Grand Canyon. To say that I was nervous about the thought of my mother and father picking up EVERYthing and moving was an understatement. But I have never been one to put limits on anyone (except myself), and my Mom knew that about me, so she confided a lot in me during that time. Knowing how my sister would react (and the comments she had already been making), my Mom didn't talk to her much about the whole thing. I had even gotten the kids excited about Nana and PawPaw's new adventure. Sure, they were sad, but they thought it was pretty cool.

We had everything planned out: we would move into my Mom and Dad's and see about selling our house or renting it. The kids would be able to be bussed to school now, and we were kind of excited about the prospect. Dad's surgeon, on the other hand, had a totally different idea of what Dad would be doing in September. It certainly did not include a move across the country.

It has been a dream of my Mom's to teach on a reservation. I have no idea where she decided on this, and if you knew my Mom, you would know that she does not travel much away from her own home, let alone making a trek like this. She had even contemplated leaving Dad behind and going out on her own. But she knew herself, and she knew that would be a large stretch for her.

Dad's surgery is what stopped the whole thing, dead in its tracks. There was no way Mom would leave him to take care of himself. She was afraid that if she wasn't there, Dad wouldn't listen to his doctor and rest the way he needed to.

Since that time, I have to say that Dad has pretty much gone into some form of depression, and I am glad that my Mom made the decision that she did. But the dream didn't die; she informed me two days ago that she had a phone interview with another school system. This one, however, is on the US/Mexico border. I'm not too hip on that one, and to be honest, I am not sure how hip I am about the move.

69 was ok. 70 going on 71 ... not so much. But they didn't call. Don't know why. Mom has her guess, which has something to do with them finding out how old she is. And I think: what in the world does she have on her resume?

Saving for Retirement

As I sat and sewed this morning, I was listening to our local AM radio station. There was a representative from ING being interviewed, and she was discussing the options when we reach the age of retirement. One of those options is to not start taking Social Security at 62, but to put off receipt of those payments until one reaches 67. Another option, she stated, was to take a part-time job during retirement.

And it scared me because, to be blatantly honest, I have not thought one bit about what my husband and I will do when we reach that "golden age". We live paycheck to paycheck, hand-to-mouth, right now ... we have NO savings account, I am afraid to even admit. What our kids are going to do when they want to go to college is beyond me because we have dealt with a number of blows to our finances, including lost jobs and a terrible economy.

What has happened? Where has the time gone? I keep thinking "shoot you are just 41. There's no need to get all bunged up about it now." We have always said "live for the moment" because we never know when those moments will be taken away from us. However, those "live for the moment" moments ... they are getting closer and closer to 50. And then 60.

My parents ... they live on a fixed income ... my Dad's Social Security. And it pales in comparison to what he was receiving when he was a broker for a real estate agency. I have witnessed things that my Mom has had to do in order to make payments. I have watched her scrimp a few dollars here to add it to the measly amount of money they receive each month.

So that prolonging until I am 67 ... really? Is it going to be there, and is it going to be enough? I hate to watch my parents struggle as they do. Medications, doctor's visits, mortgages... all to be paid with a small amount of money each month.

Word has been going around between my sister and I of who will "take" my parents when they can't make the mortgage anymore, or Dad can't keep up the property the way he needs to. My sister has offered because she does have a 2000 square foot home and it is just she and my brother-in-law. Of course, that will enter them into another realm, and she will truly be the epitome of the sandwich generation. But I know my parents: they won't do it.

So while I am worried about our lives, I witness the lives of my Mom and Dad as they struggle along. I witness what is to come, what could possibly be us in 29 years. If I thought these 41 years went by in the blink of an eye, 29 seems like a heartbeat.