by a guy who thought retirement came with a beach and a drink, not a dance recital and a Disney + subscription
Once upon a time, oh so long ago, probably around the same time I started growing ear hair, I had a vision of retirement. Actually not just a vision. A great, big retirement vision board. In my head, at least.
Have you ever created your own vision board? You really ought to give it a go. Jack Canfield, one of the authors of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series of books, writes a lot about creating a vision board. I figured, if it worked for him, it could work for me. So that’s what I did. My own retirement vision board.
It was glorious. And epic.
My retirement days were going to be filled with hammocks swaying between palm trees, half-read biographies, lazy walks with Heather through sun-drenched markets in quaint villages. I’d sip espresso in Italy. Rum in Belize. Or even a Coke in Courtenay. Who cares; it was retirement, baby.
And yet… here I am. Still working. Still parenting. And still trying to figure out why our grocery bill includes so many granola bars and not nearly enough piña colada mix.
Somehow, here in the middle of my 65 years, I missed the memo. Not that I ever believed in the whole “Freedom 55” nonsense. No, I was just kinda hoping my retirement life might have kicked in by now.
So, in the spirit of full transparency, and because laughing about it beats panicking, here’s a completely honest look at what I envisioned for retirement… versus the reality I’m currently navigating.
1. Vision: I’d wake up naturally, to the gentle chirping of birds.
Reality: I wake up at 6:15 to my daughter Beth-Rose yelling “Where’s my other dance shoe?!?” and the cat vomiting at the end of the bed. Just before the damn alarm goes off…
(The birds are still chirping. They’re just mocking me.)
2. Vision: I’d sell the house, downsize, and live part-time in a tropical paradise.
Reality: I’m still fixing the sump pump in our old house while Zachary calculates how long he can live rent-free if he “just keeps studying.”
(Spoiler: he’s not studying.)
3. Vision: I’d travel. Just pick up and go. Last-minute flights. A carry-on bag. Adventure!
Reality: If I leave the house without a checklist, I feel like I’ve gone rogue. And “Adventure” means taking the ferry without a reservation.
(And I still forgot the charger.)
4. Vision: Financial freedom. Pensions. Investments. My money working for me.
Reality: I have an impressive portfolio of expired loyalty points and coffee shop gift cards, and an RRSP that’s too embarrassed to show itself.
(And my money is definitely freelancing out to someone else.)
5. Vision: Romantic afternoons with my wife, sipping wine and talking about our next chapter.
Reality: We high-five in the hallway between chores and argue about who’s picking Beth-Rose up from dance.
(But we do still split the last piece of cheesecake. That’s love.)
6. Vision: I’d finally write that novel. Or at least blog regularly. Maybe even get a little philosophical.
Reality: I write to-do lists I promptly forget and blog once a month if the stars align and no one needs a ride to dance.
(But hey, you’re reading this. So I guess I win this round.)
7. Vision: Retirement would mean peace, balance, and maybe yoga.
Reality: I attempted yoga once. The cat licked the top of my head during downward dog and I pulled something in my back that hasn’t forgiven me since.
(Namaste? More like Imma-stay away from stretching.)
So Where Does That Leave Me?
Still here. Still being a parent. I mean, that never stops, even when I think it could. And still working toward that vision; only now it’s got a few scratched out bits, coffee stains, and a teenager’s dirty sock stuck to it.
But it’s mine. And every once in a while, I do catch a glimpse of that dreamy retirement life: a quiet moment on the back deck, a well-earned beer after mowing the lawn, or planning casitas in Belize with Heather like we’re building an elaborate plan to a great heist.
So maybe it’s not quite a fully crafted retirement vision board, but it’s getting closer. Slowly. Between grocery runs.
