Definition of Retirement

a-checkers-couple-comic

 

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Today I am grateful for the definition of retirement.  Himself and I ran errands today after I took him to lunch.  I know the rules.  Food first, errands second.

 

One of our stops was Costco, a workout unto itself.  We flew into the door, list in hand and set right off for the popcorn area.  Priorities, you know.

 

But we didn’t get there right away because I saw a tall table with four stools for sale.  Printed on top of the table was a checkerboard all set up with the pieces.

 

“Let’s play,” I said, pulling out a stool.

“I’ll stand.”  Himself is always ready for a game.

 

We sat/stood there for almost 20 minutes, strategizing and jumping and thinking and kinging and playing checkers, like the old men in the parks do in summer.  No one has ever “let” me win at anything and I never did that with my kids, either.  If they wanted to win they had to step up and win.  And oh how sweet a win is when you know it’s real.  When you’ve worked for it, earned it and honor it.

 

No one ever cheated.  No one ever cried “foul” or called names in my house over a game because it wasn’t allowed.  If you lost, take it on the cuff and congratulate the winner.  If you won, don’t preen around the house boasting like an egomaniac being unkind and a worse winner than a loser.  What goes around comes around.  Eventually.  At least that’s what I was taught and what I taught my kids and what I’m teaching my granddkids.

 

Himself is not strutting around with glee. . .and I said, “Good game!  You are a worthwhile competitor.”  He agreed that he thought I had him for a

while.

 

Many people paused to watch for a few seconds, others smiled as they passed and others said hello.  Some we noticed, others were lost in our focus for the game. I don’t know why we were compelled to stop in the middle of a busy day to play checkers.  We just did.  Spontaneously.

 

And as we had re-set the board and headed for the popcorn aisle I said, “You know what that was all about, don’t you?”  Himself did not, so I enlightened him.  “It was the definition of retirement.”

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s