Sinking In

     I was wondering when the reality of being retired would actually sink in.  There is a spongy answer.  All retirees have a specific date when retirement is official, but the emotional/mental reality of retirement is indistinct.  For educators the ambiguity is quite pronounced.  We are accustomed to lengthy periods of time off annually.  So, while my official retirement date was June 12th, I haven't really felt any different than I have felt during any previous summer.
     Last week my former colleagues went back to work, school buses dropped excited, anxious children in the parking lot of a freshly cleaned school, teachers welcomed their charges to overcrowded classrooms while students found their names on desks that will be theirs for the next ten months, and I wasn't needed to welcome new students, calm anxious mothers of kindergarten students who were much more excited about the experience awaiting them than they were sad about leaving the women who have nurtured them for the past five years, solve the problem of too many students in one class and too few in another, check the campus for unsafe conditions or solve last-minute problems for teachers.  Like a ship that slowly takes on water until the tip of the bow finally disappears below the surface, the truth of my situation has finally sunk into my consciousness.  That former life is over.  I'm okay with that.
     This weekend we went camping with my son and his family.  Seven people in a tiny pop-up trailer is just a little on the tight side of the packing-sardines-into-a-can spectrum.  But how wonderful to have been able to go up on Friday by myself to claim a campsite and return home Sunday knowing I don't have to roll out at 5:30 A.M. to go to work!  Well, not paid employment, anyway.  I have plenty of work to do on the south side of the house in 100 degrees (plus) temperatures for the next few days.
     Guess what was hiding underneath a neatly stacked pile of my wife's clothing?  The wallet!  How it got there has already been the subject of some debate, but no conclusions will ever be reached, at least none that anyone wants to announce out loud.  I'm glad to have it back with the few things I had forgotten about, and the $55 to boot.  I knew it was in the house.
      I have now seen a Bald Eagle in California.  I have seen them in Colorado and Minnesota, but the one at Silver Lake was the first I've witnessed in this state.
   

Lost

    "I need your driver's license," she said in tone I would have expected after her 50th contact of the day instead of her 4th.
     "So do I, " was my just-barely-disguised sarcastic reply as I handed her the Application for Replacement of Lost/Stolen Driver's License.
     She backed off and softened her tone before telling me I needed to give her $25.  Ten minutes later I was out the door with my piece of paper declaring that I really am a valid California driver even if I was stupid enough to lose the one with the picture.
     It shouldn't have been that simple.  I had dug out my passport and social security card, set the alarm for earlier than I had wanted to get up and combed my hair for the dreaded driver's license picture only to discover that none of that was necessary.  The clerk simply typed in my old driver's license number and up popped my picture and more information about me than I probably wanted her to be privy to.
     The next day I requested a new ATM card from the bank, and three credit cards from the appropriate institutions.  I spent about 30 minutes total getting all that done.  Everyone I had spoken to had warned me of interminable conversations with rude and incompetent people, endless phone calls and piles of paperwork.  I was done with all the important stuff in less than an hour's time.  Oh sure, I still have to replace the Safeway Club card so I can get the 3¢ off each gallon, but nobody can chalk up a huge bill on any of my credit cards.
     I do have to write off the $60 or so that was in the wallet.  And I have to get a new health care card to replace the one that was only about 3 days old.  And, oh yeah, I have to replace my hunting license.  I lost it last year and had to purchase a new one at full cost because I had not removed the duplicate from the back of it.  So this year I tore that duplicate off before I even left the counter...but now I can't remember what I did with it.
     Here's my biggest concern:  I really don't believe I dropped my wallet.  I believe I set it down someplace in the house and something out of the ordinary happened to it after that.  So, while I feel bad about not having the money that was in it and having to replace some items, I have this slight, but constant, sick feeling in my stomach in anticipation of finding it and having to admit that I did something stupid to create this mess.  Oh well, it's a feeling not exactly foreign to me.
     It's amazing, isn't it, that God will watch out for careless and/or stupid people, protecting us from the huge consequences of our actions or inactions while allowing us to learn some lessons from those activities?  So, what's my lesson?  Strangely enough, I don't believe it has anything to do with carelessness.  I honestly don't believe I did anything out of the ordinary with that wallet.  But trusting him and having patience with the processes of life have touched me.  Thank you, Lord.
    There's one last thing to do:  Buy another wallet.  Maybe I'll get one with a big chain attached to it.  Man, I'll look really cool!